


A Life in Full Circle

by NeroOutrunsTheMass



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Depictions of Illness, M/M, Mundane things, Music reference, Non-Linear Narrative, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28710663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeroOutrunsTheMass/pseuds/NeroOutrunsTheMass
Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi dies. We jump into moments in between all that and the beginning. The process of grief is uncertain and unclear.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	1. Side A- Part I : Miya Atsumu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I haven't done fan fiction in yeeeeeeeeears. 
> 
> I guess this is my "Welcome to Ao3" piece. 
> 
> I humbly ask everyone's forgiveness.

There’s a picture on top of the table with an unfinished letter.

“What makes a life full?” Is the single line written on the back of the photo.

A question unanswered.

* * *

Tragedy waits for nobody they say but what happens after?

Atsumu Miya finds himself at a new start at 31 upon the death of Kiyoomi Sakusa and really, he doesn’t know where to begin. His Omi was gone.

There’s no actual start to this story is there? Not when they’ve spent more than 10 years in the cycles of love. Not when he promised Kiyoomi to start over each time they don’t get steps right. To not give up. What’s left of it but everything and nothing?

Atsumu doesn’t really know.

It was a perfectly sunny afternoon yesterday when Kiyoomi died and it was something that almost everyone expected given everything that’s happened the previous month but in a world with only them, it’s a tear to the core of everything Atsumu knows.

This can be considered hiding right? He’s in Hyōgo while everything that remains of Kiyoomi is in Osaka and the rest lies in his heart.

“Tsumu. Dear…” His mom peaks from the door. “Your bath’s ready. Come down to eat once yer done.” Her tone is soft and almost whispered. Like she’s walking on eggshells around him and he hates it but he knows why and he doesn’t have the energy to fight anything today.

The bath is soothing, if anything. He scrubs himself off of yesterday’s dirt. All from the game they won and everything else after. Nothing’s sinking in yet. He remembers his 15-minute drive from the Maruzen Intec Arena to Tominaga Hospital right after his match. That strange screaming at the back of his head that made him ditch any post-game interviews and made his ears ring as he barreled his way past the crowd, past the traffic and the distance. Only to have found Kiyoomi barely hanging on as if he was just waiting for Atsumu to get there.

He dunks his head on the bath. He doesn’t want to think of that right now. More like he doesn’t know how to handle the knowledge so he thinks back further.

* * *

They’ve known each other since they were 15 and without the ability to hide the worse of themselves. Kiyoomi was too blunt and Atsumu was… Well he was Atsumu Miya. People already knew what to expect.

What everyone missed then were the small flitting signs of attraction. From knowing each other’s ticks in favor of using them against each other, learning the other’s favorites to the long process of testing the waters for them both- trial and error until Atsumu is able to read Kiyoomi’s tells. Until Kiyoomi can read past the first few layers of the blonde’s intricacies. Years of push and pull before deciding to give each other a shot.

On Sakusa’s 19th birthday they met up in the Starbucks at the Waseda Arena after Atsumu’s match at the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium. Sakusa asked if he was free after the game and he said that he can pass by on the way back to their team’s accommodations. _‘What bullshit’_ Sakusa thought fondly. It was a lie but maybe the right one Kiyoomi was waiting for.

“Wouldn’t you think it’s wasted opportunity Miya?” Kiyoomi asked. The fact that Atsumu lied to make it fly as if Waseda was on the way to the Prince Park Tower endeared Kiyoomi so much that he found the courage to throw Atsumu a sign.

“What is?”

“That it’s my birthday today and I happen to want to see Tokyo Tower.”

The cogs in Atsumu’s brain moved and pieced things together. His hotel room overlooked the Tokyo Tower. He turned to gape at the man and all he saw was Omi hiding a grin with his palms. It wasn’t like Atsumu didn’t know that it was Kiyoomi’s birthday.

 _‘Does Omi know?’_ Atsumu asked himself. _‘Fuck it.’_

“Then let’s go see Tokyo Tower.” He said as he stood and collected their things. He never really thought Sakusa would say no. If the man was giving him a sign then he decided then that he would take it in stride. So they allowed the silence to fester as they walked to Atsumu’s car.

In the year and a half that Atsumu has had his driver’s license, it definitely wasn’t the first time Sakusa’s been inside his car. At least Omi was comfortable enough to just grab the aux cable and play any song he wanted to. He settled with Kenshi Yonezu’s ‘Cranberry and Pancake’. An unlikely pick but they were already past that the moment Kiyoomi’s phone played Utada Hikaru on a different drive from Waseda to Roppongi hills.

(“I just like her voice okay?” Omi grumbled then- the tips of his ears already turning pink. Atsumu sang along to ‘This is love’- hey he likes Utada too. He can cope with Omi’s quirks. “Now I feel second-hand embarrassment from your singing. Stop it Miya.” Kiyoomi said in between giggles.)

They stopped by Atelier Anniversary near Waseda because Atsumu insisted that since it’s Kiyoomi’s birthday, there has to be cake. He had Omi cover his eyes so he doesn’t see it.

While lining up for cake he gets possessed by the idea of going to the beach because ' _Fuck it. Kiyoomi lives and studies in Waseda. He doesn’t want to fucking see Tokyo Tower. He wants to spend his birthday with me.'_ He thought.

He mapped his GPS to Kamakura Yuigahama beach.

They drove past Tokyo Tower and as he took the right, instead of taking the left to the parking lot of the Prince Park Tower, he smirked and answered Kiyoomi’s wide-eyed stare.

“If ya have class tomorrow morning then yer ditching.” He set his phone on the dashboard holder for Sakusa to see what he had planned. “Waseda is suckin’ the life outta you. You want ta see Tokyo Tower on yer birthday? That’s shit Omi-kun. Ya know it.”

Sakusa didn’t say anything but Atsumu can tell he’s flustered. Again, by the redness on his ears and that he felt the need to hide his face even if he had a mask on. He didn’t say anything and they spent the drive mostly in silence drowned out by Sakusa’s playlist. Atsumu chose the more scenic route by taking the left from Namamugi so they get to pass by the bridge that has a view of Tokyo Bay.

“Hey, what was that song ya had? ” Atsumu asked.  
“Which one?”

He sang:

“なのに心満たされず  
無くしたカケラ探して  
見つけ出せない  
Dubai Paris Shanghai” (But I'm not satisfied, Looking for lost pieces, Can’t find- Dubai Paris Shanghai)

Recognition instantly came to Sakusa and he tapped on his playlist to play Monkey Majik’s ‘I need your love’. Atsumu didn’t have to say anything but he sings along the Japanese lyrics and some of the English lines from the beginning. He can sing- ' _if he doesn’t take himself so seriously_ ', Sakusa thought. He had his gaze trained upon Atsumu. ‘ _Am I reading this right?_ ’ He contemplates. He wanted to ask or to say something because he knew that his silence was giving out more than anything could but how could he really? Atsumu was a vision- left hand on the wheel, his right elbow rested on the open window and his right hand on his hair. The wind and the late afternoon sunlight adding effects. The way he softly sang the lyrics.

He quickly glanced at Sakusa and smirked. ‘ _Ya don’t have to say anything Omi-kun’_ No spells broken. He sang through the next song until they took a quick pitstop at a Family Mart in Namiki-Chūō.

They took care of business. Atsumu bought them a chūhai some water and a pack of karikari ume for Kiyoomi. When they got back to the car, they didn’t move for a while. It was Atsumu who broke the awkward silence.

“When we get to Kamakura, let me kiss ya.”

 _‘What if we get into an accident? What if our phones ring and we have to get back to Tokyo? What if—’_ the list went on in Sakusa’s head.

“I can hear yer brain. D’ya want to or not?” Atsumu asked.

Sakusa stopped his fidgeting and settled with using the bottle of water to cool his forehead. “Okay Miya.” He sighed. “Alright.”

They settled on a parking lot that overlooked the ocean, right on time as the sun was setting. Atsumu held no brakes as he stopped the engine, used one hand to remove Sakusa’s mask and the other to tenderly run through the other’s hair as he pressed their lips together.

He tasted the umeboshi candy on Omi’s mouth. He felt the other relax into the kiss and soon enough- reciprocate.

“That’s… I guess I didn’t need the chūhai for that.” Atsumu said. Their faces still centimeters apart. “I like ya Omi-kun… Kiyoomi-kun.”

“Same.” Sakusa huffed a short laugh. “Atsumu.”

They end up sharing the chūhai (Sakusa drank more, insisting that since Atsumu was driving then he shouldn’t even be drinking) and the cake. Atsumu sang him the birthday song and they kiss more on the backseat of his car. He felt like he could be drunk off of the taste of shōchū, peach, and layered cake on Sakusa’s mouth.

They got back to Tokyo at around 10 pm with promises to be in touch.

“I have 3 more years to finish in uni.” Omi said “I can’t leave Tokyo often. You’d have games here but you’d be in Osaka mainly. I’ll be busy during exams…” he prattled on his doubts.

“Well. What’re 3 years and a 6-hour drive to the rest of our lives? If ya miss me too much I’ll take the Shinkansen and that’ll take what? 4 hours?” Atsumu reassured him. “D’ya have any better ideas Omi-kun? Cause I don’t fuckin’ know. You’ve been it for a while. I haven’t looked elsewhere.”

 _‘Oh.’_ Kiyoomi’s brain stuttered.

Atsumu kissed him again as he dropped him off the gates of the Waseda campus dorms. It wasn’t the kind of goodbye that pained him but they stayed there a while. Played a couple more songs from Sakusa’s playlist- King Gnu’s ‘Hakujitsu’ and ‘Don’t stop the clocks’.

“I’ll bug ya through Line.” He said.

Sakusa sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’ll mute you when I have to study.”

Atsumu laughed.

* * *

Atsumu drags himself through the motions of getting dressed. He thinks of the drive from Osaka to Amagasaki yesterday. He couldn’t stand to be anywhere near their house, his and Omi’s house, in Miyakojima-ku after seeing Omi’s parked car in their garage so he took a detour to a spot along Kanzaki River before heading to Amagasaki.

He took the time to at least try to breathe and actually call Komori to break the news. His hands were still shaking from all the fighting he did when he was in the hospital.

“We need to let his legal guardians know that he has passed away Miya-san.” is what they told him.

They needed to call Kiyoomi’s parents. They asked him to call Kiyoomi’s parents in which he spat out a venomous “Fuck you!” To their faces. In the 12 years he’s spent with Sakusa Kiyoomi, not once did she stop herself from expressing her disapproval. To the point where Omi had to spread himself thin just to accommodate everyone and everything in his life be it Waseda, convincing them that he wanted to go pro (“No mom, it wasn’t Atsumu’s influence. This was always my plan”), endlessly trying to convince them that Atsumu was someone he deemed worthy for his life or that he wasn’t interested in women.

“But you can’t marry, Kiyoomi. You can’t even have children.” They said. “And look at him. He just doesn’t fit your pedigree son.”

Were they breeding people? Pedigree? All they cared about was their son’s progeny. Of course, Atsumu saw it as total bullshit and if he lives with Omi’s Mother’s disapproval then so be it. He wanted and still wants nothing of it.

All the years with Kiyoomi. They would still allow his estranged mother to do the honor of handling what remained of him. Atsumu was seething. He’s somehow calmed down now but yesterday was an avalanche of feelings he couldn’t run away from.

He didn’t know how much time he spent by the riverbank yesterday. He had to take the detour because the urge to just swerve and crash his car had become too strong. The music he played in his car became too unbearable. Also, he had to call Komori.

He picked up on the fifth ring and he wanted to tell him what had happened but nothing came out but a gasp and a strangled whisper of Kiyoomi’s name and somehow Komori understood.

There was a whole different kind of panic that consumed him after the phone call with Komori as he stared at his phone. For so long it’s just been Kiyoomi. Their messages changing as their relationship blossomed from the torrential nature of youth to a more stable sense of adulthood and just sheer contentment with each other- flaws, perfections, and everything else around it.

He opened his inbox and looked at their Line messages first since it’s what they used the most. He scrolled to

“I love ya Omi.”  
“I miss ye Omi.”  
“When I get there, I’ll fuck ya so hard.”  
“I want to hold ya.”  
"Does this shirt look good on me?”  
“I have an exam Atsu.”  
“I miss you Atsu.”  
“Atsumu. I want you.”  
“Look at this dog.” Kiyoomi attached a photo of a dog that looked like Motoya.  
“Happy Birthday!”  
“Happy Anniversary!”  
“Let’s go here next.” Atsumu sent a picture of Niseko.  
“Pick me up, I’m drunk.”  
“What d’ya want for takeout?”  
“Ya still have tea at home love?”  
“We should probably shop for supplies huh?”  
“Unbelievable Atsu. I’m in the kitchen. Get it yourself.”  
“Buy dish soap.”  
“Come home soon.”

He laughed at the shift from horny to domestic. The more recent messages filled with typos from Kiyoomi. Probably as he struggled to type in each character as he fought perpetual exhaustion.

He ended up getting to their Amagasaki home after dark. His mom may have been surprised by his arrival but he must’ve looked like hell for her to have not asked anything and she didn’t badger him when he went straight to his room too.

At present, he sits on his bed and stares at his phone as he recalls the cacophony of blips he’s been ignoring since last night. He opens his inbox and sees a couple of messages from Komori.

“You should be here Miya. ”

“This is so unfair.”

Damn right it isn't fair. 12 years he's spent with Sakusa Kiyoomi. The last two being challenged with an undiagnosed neuropathic disease that prematurely ended Omi's career and took a leg with it. All the nasty side effects of the medication he had to take. Atsumu had seen it all.

12 fucking years and he gets booted out because what? Because he's not married to Kiyoomi? He can’t even do that in this country so, well fuck. None of them have been present for the past 2 years except for Komori. They didn't even care to ask about their son. The hospital just called Omi's mother and of course she wanted none of him there. 12 years and he won't be able to be there as they buried everything his heart held for so fucking long.

The anger remains under his skin as he stares out the windowsill where he’s sat Kiyoomi many times in the past to tell him stories of his and Osamu’s childhood. The things that kids in Amagasaki did that kids from Tokyo could only dream of doing.

His ruminating is interrupted by his phone ringing— it’s Osamu.

“Tsumu…” His brother says. He knows. Oh God, he’s gonna ask.

“Where the hell’re ya?” Slipping into Kansai-ben too. Only when he worries.

“In Amagasaki.”

“Why?”

“I needed… Home. Samu…” He can’t quite admit it yet. Not with exact words but he wants Osamu to understand. “I miss Kiyoomi.”

“I know Tsumu. ”

“No. No you don’t Samu.” He says. Choking on something. A chill settling on his core. “When I get back to Osaka, he won’t be there ‘nymore. I’ll still miss ‘im. I don’t know what to do…”

Atsumu kills the call before he hears anything remotely comforting from Osamu.

He knows that there’s grief in him. How could there not be grief inside him? He might as well be made of it at this point. It’s all simmering inside his guts as he just tries to exist.

He lies on his bed and thinks of Kiyoomi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to twtfic this but I really can't but it's here anyway :
> 
> :)
> 
> *let's start with 2k. Then breathe a little.


	2. Side B- Part I: Kiyoomi Sakusa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at the beginning of the end.

Kiyoomi is a man who understands consequences so when he’s in the face of a mad decision- he looks at the facts and their effects and he does no less but accept it. That’s what he likes to think. But not all decision is confounded on situational facts alone.

It started with a tingling on his leg that later became mildly painful and he still thought nothing serious of it until he slipped off some stairs and he just couldn’t get back up. 

In a matter of hours and speedy tests done, he was asked to decide between having his leg amputated or risk his life to a blood clot. Of course, he chose to live and this consequently ends his volleyball career. 

He doesn’t want to mourn something he understands fully but the heartbreak of losing volleyball creates other cracks in his mind that are filled with nothing but all his doubts and all the pain he imagines one Atsumu Miya having because that man would lament him or his volleyball. Or both. But he doesn’t want things to end this way. He doesn’t want their relationship of over a decade to end with him being a burden to Atsumu so he made up his mind. 

Atsumu was on a business trip in Brazil with Shouyo for an endorsement deal he helped negotiate. They’ve gone past so many conversations about their moral obligations as athletes and the ethical implications of marketing products that have adverse effects on people. Just adult relationship things. The memory of it makes Sakusa sick. He knew that the decision he was making was selfish beyond anything he’s ever done in his life but it was all rooted in love. That’s what he believed anyway. 

Before being put under the knife, he’s already made arrangements to be transferred to the University of Tokyo hospital from Tominaga. That’s assuming he makes it out alive. He's signed all the paperwork and has contacted the only person in his family that he trusts- Komori Motoya. 

  
  


* * *

He’s in a private room in Tokyo U Hospital and somehow light-headed on pain killers. The surgery went well as far as having a leg removed from right above the knee. It’s just that his body needs aid in fighting off infection. He sighs- he’s already lost count on how many days he’s been here. 

Shifting his gaze to the side, he sees Komori asleep on the chair beside his bed. He’s kept vigil because of a fever that took so long to break. Kiyoomi stares at his cousin who’s been nothing but supportive of his decision and has been taking good care of all the things he can’t be bothered with since he’s been high for days. 

“Toya.” He whispers. “Toya, you’ll hurt your back this way. Go home…” 

Komori doesn’t budge but Sakusa tries again. He’s still a bit shaky but he’s able to lift his hand and nudge Komori a bit. He stirs and wakes up in a jolt. 

“Kiyo— what.” He tries to blink away exhaustion and a sense of urgency is in his voice as he asks. “What is it? Are you alright?”

Kiyoomi wants to laugh at how ridiculous this all is. He’s capable and again, he chose this selfishly. Of course, telling only Komori about it will make him stay and exhaust himself for his sake. ‘ _I shouldn’t have told him’_ he thinks. But if he didn’t, then who would be here? 

“I’m fine Toya. Go home. When is your next game?” Kiyoomi asks. 

“Not till next week against VC Kanagawa.” 

He hums and moves to adjust his bed so he’s in a sitting position. “Nekoma’s Taketora is on that team right?” 

Komori nods and hands Kiyoomi his phone and laptop. 

When he’s awake enough to deal with official business, he’s been working on settling and terminating all existing contracts associated with volleyball as a result of his retirement. His contract with MSBY is nulled— not that anyone has a choice in the matter. Kiyoomi has somehow accepted that he will no longer be playing in the professional arena. He has a spreadsheet of all existing arrangements he has for endorsement deals to let them know of the situation. They may run ads for a few more months but any renewal would be in question at this point and with his current condition. He goes over each one in detail and sends a separate email for each one. It’s enough to distract him from Atsumu. For now. 

  
  


The only people from MSBY that know of his predicament is his agent, some HR personnel, and Coach Foster. He’s also taken it upon higher management to have them sign a non-disclosure agreement for everything at present. In a few months, they will come to him to have him sign his retirement papers. 

So far, he’s got everything under control. 

Komori buys them lunch. He’s been given a strict diet of light food for the next couple of weeks while he’s in recovery so he settles with Onigiri and Miso soup for most meals. Komori handles making sure that he gets variety somehow. 

He’s still able to ignore Atsumu. 

His days more or less remain this way-- dealing with paperwork and being in pain killers. He updates his calendar frequently through countless doctor’s visits. He’s scheduled for therapy, the measurement for prosthesis then therapy again so he learns how to go through the motions of having an artificial leg. He’s also given a shit ton of medication for managing his chronic neuropathic pain and any clotting issues that may arise from having a limb removed. 

A month flies by easily as he cares for business. Atsumu should have been back from Brazil a couple of weeks ago but he intentionally avoids any news from him. He doesn’t ask Komori. He doesn’t look at any social media nor does he open the television. He has blocked Atsumu’s number so that stops any incoming calls but he has thought of it. What Atsumu must be thinking when he got back home and found his closet half empty. 

Sakusa doesn’t want to hurt him this way but he’s convinced himself that this is for the best. The moment the doctors have mentioned that whatever it is he has is chronic, Kiyoomi had already decided that it would be best to part ways. At least Atsumu would be left with one bitter memory. He hopes that everything else has been worth the setter’s time. 

He looks out the window and observes the fall colors. He realizes that he hasn’t been to Tokyo for an extended stay for so long. They usually had games here but as far as feeling at home, it just hasn’t been Tokyo for quite some time now. Their house in Miyakojima-ku, in Osaka, had been his first opportunity to build a home from scratch. Just the way he wanted a home to be. He thinks of it now and morosely ponders that it may be the last time he would have anything like that. He remembers Atsumu showing him the deed for the house and the days they’ve spent looking through the repairs that had to be done. They were lucky, he knows. Not a lot of people in their early twenties could afford to buy a house and they could have gotten a more expensive property but Atsumu, ‘ _Oh, Atsu.’_ Sakusa mentally sighs, he’s such a prude. 

“We have to save up Omi-omi!” He would say. “Don’t ‘cha want to retire and stay in Kamakura? Or Hokkaido?” 

Had he known that he would have this problem then maybe he would have listened less to Atsumu and bought more of the things that would have made the other happy. Not that money can buy happiness. That adage seems to laugh at his face more and more each passing day. 

Volleyball is another thing he avoids entirely now and he doesn’t keep up with it outside of knowing Komori’s schedule. He keeps himself entertained by reading books that Komori brings him or just staring out the window- the sun and the sky remind him of Atsumu and that’s the most he allows himself to stray from the oppressively tight control he has over his feelings in hopes that it will all go away. _‘It’s only a matter of time’_ he repeats to himself a hundred times. 

Days go by this way with Komori Motoya as his only witness. He too tries to endure. 

  
  


* * *

“You can’t not watch vball forever Kiyo. C’mon.” 

Komori urges him. It’s been more than a couple of months and a few more weeks and he’ll be trying out prosthetics. His cousin expects an answer but he really doesn’t want to. It doesn’t matter that it’s been so long. 

“If you don’t watch then I’ll tell Miya.” A serious threat if he’s ever heard one from Komori. They stare at each other for a while. 

“Fine. Division 2.”

Victory surprises Komori but he grins and pulls out his phone to check the next set of Division 2 games. 

“Sendai frogs and Shizuoka Jaguars tomorrow. Do you remember Kamomedai’s middle blocker? Bessho?” 

Kiyoomi tries to recall but fails. “No. I don’t.”

“He’s the Jaguar’s outside hitter.” Komori says. Sakusa is certain that his cousin doesn’t mean anything by it. It’s a casual mention since he does like analyzing games and he also tries his best to observe players he’s played against when he was much younger. 

There’s no stopping the bitterness in his expression when he acknowledges the fact mentioned. 

“Oh.” he says. Guilt immediately fills Komori so he just sets an alarm on Kiyoomi’s phone and puts a reminder for the channel where the game will be on. 

They forego anything volleyball related for the rest of the day. 

Anxiety rolls over Sakusa’s back though until the day of the match. He wakes up early and tries to keep himself busy- as busy as anyone stuck to a hospital bed can keep themselves anyway. He reads a few chapters of the new book Komori got for him. He listens to music and counts the hours till the game. 

  1. He eats his onigiri. 



  1. He makes a lo-fi hip hop playlist. 



  1. He checks his email. 



  1. He stares at the television and counts down the minutes. 



Television on. Japanese punctuality will always delight him. The game starts and he accepts the pain of longing as he goes through the first set. Fascination falls upon him as he sees familiar faces-- Karasuno’s Tsukishima, Aoba Johsai’s Kyōtani, and Date Tech’s Koganegawa. _‘I’m okay’_ he tells himself. _‘This, I can do.’_ he repeats in a cycle, like a mantra. 

What he doesn’t take into account is his lover’s reach in the Volleyball world. Atsumu is a global ambassador, a star player in a Division 1 team and a popular product endorser for many leading Japanese sports brands. He’s arguably one of the more recognized members of MSBY along with Bokutō Kōtaro and Meian Shūgo. 

Set 1 of the Sendai-Jaguar ends. 

“Miya-senshu! Miya-senshu!” Kiyoomi’s eyes widen and he’s in a nightmarish trance of looking at the very man he chose to abandon. 

“Any news of Sakusa-senshu’s return?” The reporter asks Atsumu. The blonde stills but immediately smiles and fake grins. “No comment.” he says. 

There exists a vacuum in his chest that just keeps on taking his breath away even as he tries to vehemently deny the pain of seeing Atsumu. The yearning and the disquiet it brings into his decision. All of a sudden, he’s no longer sure if he’s chosen correctly. Kiyoomi feels the ache of wanting Atsumu so acutely to the point where he doesn’t care if it’s just his face on the screen. He still reaches out and tries. 

He forgets that he’s missing a leg so he falls on hospital floors and tries to crawl to where he can look closer. Cameras move to other players and panic rises and claws on Sakusa’s chest. 

_‘Wait. No. Atsumu. Put him back on.’_ He tries to beg or say anything. Completely forgetting that it’s not going to work. This is his choice, his decision and the finality of it-- the full weight of it presses against his lungs and his heart and he’s still trying to reach out to an image that’s no longer there. 

Sakusa doesn’t hear the whistle signaling the second set as he curls into himself and cries. 

* * *

  
  


Komori whistles as he walks the hospital halls that he’s gotten quite acquainted with for the past few months. He swings his arm as he walks in hopes of dispelling the threatening aura he feels around him. _‘I really hate hospitals.’_ he huffs. 

A quick mental inventory-- tea, umeboshi, and finally! The umeboshi and shiso jam that Kiyoomi adores. He’s happy with his haul and he’s always intended to reward his cousin for watching a game after so long. Five minutes before entering Kiyoomi’s private hospital room, a Komori Motoya finds himself pleased. 

Upon opening the door it all drops to subzero. He drops the bag he’s holding but apart from that he’s frozen where he stands. 

Kiyoomi is on the floor, crying and heaving and trying so hard to speak in between gasps. Motoya hears Sakusa struggle with “Please” and “Atsu” as he sobs. 

Well, he can fuck being a professional athlete. He thinks as he gapes at the scene before him. His cousin’s eyes train upon the television but he doubts the man could see anything beyond the endless tears that stream down his face. Komori Motoya hates hospitals and he’s forgotten how to breathe too. 

He’s known Kiyoomi all his life. Always strong and composed and just not THIS. 

He feels his heartbreak for Sakusa but he steels himself and asks for professional help. Nurses arrive and carry Kiyoomi to bed. The latter panics and holds on to one of the nurses and weeps uncontrollably until he hyperventilates. 

Komori Motoya stills on the corner of the room, unable to do anything and he thinks of Miya Atsumu who has called him so many times. 

“Where is he Komori?” 

“Do you know where he is?”

“Why did he leave?” 

“Why?” 

“Why?” 

“Why?”

Was it right to lie for Kiyoomi? Should he have fought him over this? Should he have told Kiyo that this was not the right choice? 

“Is he okay?” Atsumu asked at one point. As if he knew that Komori was lying to him. “Of course he’s not.” He wanted to say then. “He misses you so much.”

‘ _Maybe it isn’t too late_ ’ Motoya contemplates as he watches the medical staff sedate Kiyoomi. He's been crying more than his body could handle. He cannot allow another moment of helplessness because, for the first time, Komori will go against what Kiyoomi thinks is right so blatantly. ‘ _Because if nobody steps up, this will burn into regret Kiyo._ ’ 

He watches as Kiyoomi settles into being high-- his breaths are coming out less shallow and something more of even. His gaze is blank and half-lidded. The motions return to him as he runs a face wipe on Sakusa’s face and a damp towel on his arms. 

He sits on the chair beside Kiyoomi’s bed and holds his cousin’s hand. He will never apologize for what he’s about to do but this is the closest he can give Kiyoomi. He opens his phone and sends a message to Suna Rintarō. 

It read: “Sakusa is in Tōdai Hospital. Inpatient building A. 14th floor. Room 143B. ”

Suna already had suspicions. It will just be a matter of time before he does something about it. 

Two hours later he receives a message from Suna saying “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Komori very much :)


	3. Side B- Part II - Marunouchi Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta... not cause of death reasons but more cause I'm a fucking coward. *Bow*

Atsumu gets to Tōdai hospital close to midnight.

* * *

He’s in the coffee shop a few blocks from their house when he receives the call from Suna. 

It’s been impossible to get anything done at home since he got back from Brazil and found an empty house, a closet half empty, and signs that no one has been home for quite some time. 

There had already been some trepidation when Kiyoomi stopped responding to his messages. He even thought that he could have done something wrong but nothing came to mind as his decision to go for the trip to Brazil had been something Omi was completely fine with. Atsumu was nothing short of confused before and upon his return. 

The first thing he did was to call Komori because he knew that if anyone would know where Kiyoomi had gone then it would be him so when Komori said he didn’t know and that all Kiyoomi told him is that he was going away, it did nothing but launch Atsumu into the hysteria he’d been holding himself from. No day had passed since Osamu did not have to call Atsumu just to quell his twin’s distress. His only relief is that Kiyoomi wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere. 

He’s puzzled but he supposes this happens in real life. Meian got a divorce at 27 so everything wasn’t at all impossible. He just never thought that it would be this way with Kiyoomi. They’re half a year away from their 10th anniversary. That’s how long he’s devoted himself to Kiyoomi and he's more than willing to give the rest if he would just-- There were just no signs that it was all falling apart. If there were then he would have done something, anything to make Kiyoomi stay. 

He’s reading through some of the administrative things he’s forgotten to sort from Brazil on his computer when his phone rings. He answers almost immediately. 

“Tsumu.” The call starts with Osamu’s urgent voice then a few rustling sounds interrupt and something that sounds like “Calm down Samu” before Suna comes on. 

“Atsumu. Come to Tokyo. We know where he is.” 

He doesn’t say or ask anything. This is enough of a rope in the dark well after close three months of radio silence and he thanks Suna and ends the call so he can look up the train schedules Tokyo-bound.

_‘Osaka East Line. Tokaido-San’yō Shinkansen. Tozai Line.’_ He says to himself. It’s carved in his heart as its way home then. Many years ago when Kiyoomi was still in Waseda and their love was young.

A message comes through from Samu. 

“Come to Tōdai. Take the Shinkansen to Marunouchi Line.”

“What?” He couldn’t help it but say out loud. He’s confused. ‘ _Tōdai? What? Is he what? Fuckin’ takin’ his masters?_ ’ 

Atsumu closes everything and reopens one browser to buy his train tickets and sync it into his rail pass then moves to shut everything down. He proceeds mechanically until he gets to the station. Only until he gets into the train does he allow himself a deep breath. 

‘ _Tōdai._ _Marunouchi Line.’_ He only hopes that these are new roads to Kiyoomi instead of a dead end. 

* * *

“I miss you Atsu.” 

Kiyoomi’s message read. It’s been a tough few months. They were supposed to see each other a few weeks ago but MSBY lost to the Adlers so they didn’t qualify for a match with the EJP Raijins in Tokyo. Foster then decided to put them on several strategy meetings and a training camp before their break for the next match with DESEO hornets. 

_‘Way to go. Shit on my plans.’_ Atsumu thought. Because what the fuck. He’s wanted to see Kiyoomi for months but their schedules just never match. Whenever he had a chance to go to Tokyo, it’s Kiyoomi who would have commitments with the University. Things just haven't been adding up well and the stress is bound to get to the both of them. 

They started dating a little bit more than a year ago. Some kind of longing that has always hung around him whenever they’re apart even if they've never stayed in one place too long together. He’s never dated long term or long distance before so he’s playing it all by ear and even if things were difficult with the stretch of Osaka and Tokyo between them, he never thought that he would ever come to regret the decision of kissing Sakusa Kiyoomi on his birthday in Kamakura. He may be brash and all but it's a memory he's held on to with so much affection. 

When he thinks about it, their relationship was not something that came about sporadically. It felt like a tornado in his heart, sure, but it wasn’t one- it was mutual pursuance because they allowed each other to be, at the very least, acquainted. Comfortable. Kiyoomi had let him in and he let Kiyoomi get past the bullshit. Nothing much has changed from when he started being aware of the attraction he had for the dark-haired beauty. It may have started when they exchanged numbers during training camp in their third year and they found themselves asking the other random volleyball questions until it evolved into conversations outside of it. As steady as a quiet river flows.

Atsumu was comforted that Sakusa had not thought of him as a pest as he initially thought the boy from Tokyo would but instead he confronted Atsumu with his blunt nature that’s been fine-tuned to be a lot more tactful than when they were 15. There had been a lot of banter and Omi had blocked him on several occasions but he accepted Atsumu’s truthful answers at face value and would resist when something didn’t satisfy him. It all felt natural. The banter jeers became second nature. Their own brand of humor built from the ground up. It was just difficult to not love Kiyoomi. 

Atsumu pondered and looked at Kiyoomi’s text again. Kiyoomi had been hard to reach lately and he had briefly wondered if he was being selfish for wanting the man beyond all their separate commitments. Beyond distance and beyond the time they couldn't give each other. Was he making the other cope with something that was too much for him? Then he remembered what he told Omi: 

_“If ya miss me too much, I’ll take the Shinkansen.”_

The need to slap himself did not go unanswered. It was another sign like when he said he wanted to see Tokyo Tower. How stupid was he. Really? Expect Omi to never ask for him to go to him even when he needs him. 

He even said Shinkansen but did he even know which lines to take? He called Osamu to ask for directions. 

“Hey Samu. What train d’ya get to Tokyo? The fastest.” He said over the phone. 

Osamu was a bit confused but also amused. “Ya idiot. I don’t take the train. I have a truck?”

“So ya dunno which train t’ take? I can drive to Tokyo but that’ll take like... What. 6 hours?” 

His brother huffed in resignation. “Y comin' from Kyūhōji?” Atsumu affirmed. It sounded muffled but Osamu could have been asking someone near him. “Mari says her brother lives round there an they take Osaka East then Tokaido-San’yō then-- what? ” Atsumu assumed that Mari is one of his brother's employees. Another muffled conversation then:

“Mari studies in Waseda so she takes Tozai. Got that Tsumu?”

_Perfect. From there he can take Seibu-Shinjuku line to the Higashi-Fushimi dorm and-’_

“Ya. Thanks.” _‘_ He said but his brother wasn’t done with him. 

“Why d’ya need to go to Tokyo?” 

He hasn’t told Samu about Kiyoomi yet. Not because he wasn’t serious but because he wouldn’t know what Samu would think. He didn’t know that they’ve been seeing each other every time Atsumu went to Tokyo even before they started dating and he didn’t know that they’ve been in contact since their senior year. It was all for some childish reason at the beginning but when he started talking to Kiyoomi, he wanted it to be something that he had for himself. Not something to share with Osamu just like how his twin had a Sunarin he had all to himself. 

“There someone yer seein’ there?” 

_‘Bingo. Brother.’_

“Uhm...” 

“YER DATING?!” He heard some clattering. Maybe a shōji being opened wildly then shut. “WHO?!”

“I AIN’T TELLIN YA SHIT SAMU! YOU DIDN’T TELL ME WHEN YA GOT IT ON WITH SUNARIN!”

“WE WERE TOGETHER FOR 3 DAYS BEFORE YA FOUND OUT! THREE FUCKIN DAYS!”

“YOU WERE THROWIN LOOKS FOR MONTHS! MONTSH! YA DIDN’T TELL ME YOU LIKED HIM!?!”

Osamu huffed. “Ya noticed that?”

“Yea… I just didn’t know if ya liked ‘m or if yer just being horny.” 

“Aw Fuck you Tsumu.” They laughed and for a while, the question was forgotten but Osamu circled back to it. 

“Who is it Tsumu? Someone we know? I bet.” Well, he wasn’t wrong. 

“I can’t say yet. We haven’t talked about tellin others.” 

“Okay Tsumu. Okay. Just. See me before goin back to Osaka.” Atsumu agreed and ended the call. 

He took the train sometime around 4 pm and got to Tokyo around 8 in the evening. Once in Tokyo, it became easier to find his way to Kiyoomi. He knew his way around Waseda and he has Kiyoomi’s number. 

Once in front of the dorms, he called Sakusa. He picked up on the third ring. Sakusa must’ve been pissed. He forgot to send a response cause he was preoccupied with getting train tickets and feeling fidgety on the way to Tokyo. 

He also said the first thing he’d do is either make Kiyoomi laugh or annoy him. 

“Atsu?” came Kiyoomi’s voice through the line. Damn, he was so excited to see Kiyoomi after so long but before that, he was a man on a mission. He answered by singing some parts of Hikaru Utada’s _‘Distance_ ’. His voice cracked on the high notes but he barreled on until he heard Kiyoomi giggle. 

“I’m here out. Not freezin' but imagine if it’s winter Omi-kun.” 

“What?” He could hear the rustling and things being moved, or rather, thrown around. “Where are you?”

“Front of Okuma.” He lied. Kiyoomi ended the call. Atsumu knew he’d head out no matter what. In a few minutes he heard heavy footsteps and right before Kiyoomi took the bend to the main road, Atsumu’s already got him by the waist. 

He couldn’t quite believe that Kiyoomi would hurry for anything in the world. He had never seen him flustered or in a rush in any of the training camps in high school. It warmed his heart like no other. 

“Gotcha Om!” 

“Atsu.” Kiyoomi was breathless. Beautiful. Atsumu didn’t know how he could go so long without him. How did he do it before? He wondered. How could he ever be without this man? 

“I missed you too Omi. I told ya. Shinkansen right?”

He hasn’t dropped the stare- as if he couldn’t believe that Atsumu was really there. “What can I do to not be apart from you?" Kiyoomi said, almost wistfully.

"Can we still do this Atsu?” Atsumu won't deny that the question had hurt. But he had four hours to think about it and he understood that this arrangement had been putting a lot of pressure on Kiyoomi. More than anything, he didn't want either of them to let go but he's not a child. What he wanted to do was present all he had to offer and everything he wanted for them. To hold a hand out for Kiyoomi. The rest would be for Omi-kun to answer. 

“I won’t force you Omi.” He said. “I had been thinking about it and I know it’s hard. Waseda and this--” he gestured at himself and wiggled both eyebrows just to lighten the mood a bit. “But Omi. Yer hard to not love. I don’t think I--” 

“Me too Atsu!” Kiyoomi looked conflicted but he stared at his shoes and took deep breaths. “Sometimes… You’re just something else Atsumu. I see you in volleyball news and the press and interviews. I just get… insecure. ”

Something clicked in Atsumu’s mind. _'Kiyoomi. Yer an idiot.'_

“Kiyoomi. Come with me.” 

“What?”

“I got a place for a few days. It’s a weekend. I’m ditching camp.” He really did not feel confident about it at all though. Knowing Sakusa, he might just think that he’s being irresponsible. “ Just this once Omi. Ditch and come with me.”

A look of contemplation stayed on his face for a while. “I already ditched once Atsumu.” He was about to retort when Omi wrapped his arms around Atsumu and his flushed cheeks against his shoulder. “But okay. I’ll go with you. Again.”

They took two train lines to Minato. Atsumu booked accommodations at the Oakwood apartments at Azabudai. He still remembered last year and he’s never stopped joking about taking Kiyoomi to Tokyo tower. He felt a pang in his heart- he’s never had a relationship built enough to be able to long con anyone this way. It was so small and probably insignificant for most but the fact that he’s able to plan something like some kind of inside joke made him so ridiculously happy. 

An hour holding Kiyoomi’s hand and making sure that any surface that Kiyoomi would touch is wiped down. They reached the hotel, closed the doors and kissed. 

_‘Let me show you Kiyoomi.’_ Atsumu thought as he kissed slowly and deliberately. Intention reigning in the hunger- he wasn’t just horny. He wanted Kiyoomi on such a visceral level. 

_‘You’ve got nothing to be insecure about.’_

He pushed them deeper into the bedroom and into the bed until Omi was pliant and panting beneath him and he could see the same hunger reflected in his eyes. It had become harder to get a grip. 

“Fuck.” He kissed Kiyoomi more. “I didn’t take ya here to fuck you.” He ground their hips together. “It’s not just that. Omi.”

“What the fuck do you want Atsumu.” Kiyoomi said as he gasped a breath. His grip gained purchase on Atsumu’s back. “I- Tsumu.”

Atsumu forced themselves apart for a bit-- he leaned back but still straddled Kiyoomi. Omi let go of his shirt and skittered back on his elbows. Both of them were out of breath. 

“Omi.. I-” 

“Do you want me or not?” Kiyoomi asked, slightly miffed. The question is sobering and Atsumu took that to recenter himself. Of course, he wanted Kiyoomi but that wasn’t the only reason he asked Kiyoomi here. He chose the place for a reason. 

“Of course I fuckin want you! But look around ya Omi.” He got up and looked for the switch of the bedside lamp. “Look.”

The apartment was a studio deluxe. It had a kitchen and the window had a view of Tokyo Tower. It didn't look like a typical hotel but more like an impersonally furnished house. 

“You wanted to see Tokyo tower right?” He started. “Here it is… and Omi-kun.”

He took one of Kiyoomi’s hand in his and kissed his palm. “ Kiyoomi. It’s like some home right? I really want to love you for a long time.”

* * *

He’s in the Marunouchi Line and in less than 10 minutes he can hop off the train and run to Tokyo University. His mind whirrs as he thinks of where to start looking. Which department would he be in? He got a degree in Business and Computer Sciences but he also got a minor in Languages. 

The train stops and he’s spotted by Osamu the moment he steps out. He’s with Suna and Komori. 

“Wha-”

“He’s in Tōdai hospital.” Komori blurts out. Suna and Osamu cringe. They know how Atsumu reacts when he gets worried. 

“WHAT?!?!”

“Tsumu calm dow-”

“Don’t fuckin tell me what to do Samu!” He grips Komori by the shoulders. “What happened to him? Why is he in the hospital?” 

People around them start looking and Komori is frightened and Atsumu’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “Please Miya… I need you to calm down and listen.”

Atsumu drops an arm but levels Komori with a glare.“Why didn’t you tell me Motoya? I asked. So many fucking times.” his voice was shaking, unable to reel in all the anger and confusion he's been feeling for the past months. 

Komori winced. “Kiyo asked me to keep it a secret.”

“FUCK WHAT HE SAYS! WHAT HAPPENED TO IM?!” 

Osamu steps in and grips Atsumu’s shirt. “Ya will listen and yall listen right now Tsumu. Komori is breakin a promise fer ya. If yer not old enough to see that this is more than yer hurt feelings then go the fuck back to Osaka.” His twin knew something and he's asking him to trust. Somehow, Atsumu's able to cool it a bit. 

He looks back at Komori and sees him being shielded by Suna. A closer look shows how exhaustion matted his features. A standard spread- red-rimmed eyes and dark circles. 

“Sorry Komori… I just..”

“It’s alright Miya.” the libero says as he looks around anxiously. “Let’s get out of here… I know a place that’s still open.“

They go to a cafe nearby. Cafe Nikki the signage says. They sit on the outside tables and Suna does all the ordering for them- just basic things, coffee, and cake. Komori explains everything that’s going on from the very first message he’s received from Kiyoomi to the move from Tominaga to Tōdai. The fear of watching Kiyoomi high and empty for weeks. The leg. The condition. Everything until this afternoon when he found Kiyoomi on the floor. Atsumu listens without giving much input and when Komori finishes, he gets up and asks him to lead the way. 

Silently, they walk to the hospital with Komori ahead of them all. Atsumu counts each step and each breath and he tries to anticipate everything he’s been told to expect. When they arrive Komori leads him to the hospital room. Opens the door and urges him in. 

Kiyoomi is still and unmoving on the bed. He tries to not make any noise as he sits beside the bed and takes Kiyoomi’s hand. Kisses the knuckles and tries his best to warm it. Not that his hands are in any way warmer- the apprehension has taken a lot of his body warmth and has made his own hands clammy. 

Sakusa stirs and opens his eyes. Traces of being sedated still present. He thinks he’s seeing an apparition but he allows himself to take it in. He’s missed Atsumu so much. 

“Hey” Omi whispers. 

“Hey” Atsumu whispers back. 

Tears fall from Atsumu’s eyes. He can’t help it. _‘Look at you. Beautiful. Always so beautiful and perfect and so… Everything. It’s like I haven’t seen you an entire lifetime.’_ and just like when he wouldn't see Sakusa for months he asks himself again and again _'How can I ever be without you?'_

“Don’t leave me Omi.” He breathes out softly and he speaks tenderly as to not break the spell of the night. “Please… let me stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kin Komori :) 


	4. Side A- Part II - Grief and Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say it's part of the process. How long is this goddamn step?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic depictions of Illness here. So if you're sensitive to that then please stop now.
> 
> *it is a sensitive matter. Triple trigger warning here. Okay? Okay.

“Kiyoomi, love.” Atsumu gently ran his fingers through Sakusa’s hair and pushed it back from his forehead. Kiyoomi’s eyes followed his face. “We have doctors here and they have a few questions okay?”

Sakusa blinked once. 

“Okay Omi-kun.” Atsumu steps aside but watched how they move around Kiyoomi like a hawk. 

“Sakusa-san. My name is Akifumi Hasegawa, I’m a vascular neurologist.” The doctor started. He was a lively man who looked like he was in his mid-forties. He talked clear, slightly loud, and at a deliberate pace- aware that the person he was talking to couldn’t respond. “You were asleep the last time I checked on you. Feeling better? Can you move your eyes up?” 

Sakusa did as he was told. He looked up then blinked. 

“Alright, Sakusa-kun.” He wrote something down on his chart. “If you’re feeling better then look up again.”

It wasn’t that there was much improvement for Kiyoomi. He felt more coherent though so he looked up as instructed. 

“Okay. Good.” The doctor then resumed asking more questions only to be answered by blinks and looks. In the middle of everything, Kiyoomi felt exhaustion he couldn’t seem to brush away. 

“Hang on Sakusa-san. I know this is exhausting but I need you awake for a few more minutes okay?”

He blinked twice. _‘Okay, I’ll try but I’m not sure if I can.’_

His eyes shift to the side where Atsumu stayed to make himself scarce. _‘Come here Atsu.’_ Sakusa wanted to say but he knew that he can’t but something like a wheeze came out. Atsumu didn’t miss it. 

“Omi? Are you okay?” He’s moved to a more convenient spot in Omi’s field of vision. He blinked twice again. Atsumu moved closer and held one hand and smiled. “Omi-kun? Sleepy?” 

_‘Yes. I’m tired Atsu.’_ He blinked twice again. Atsumu stared at him for a few seconds before deciding on what to do. 

“I think he’s out doctor.” Atsumu turned towards the doctors. “I can call you as soon as he wakes up later.”

They all looked at each other then nodded. “Alright, Miya-san.”

_‘Alright alright alright alright. Fuck. Nothing is alright.’_

They leave and Atsumu is left with Kiyoomi and his half-lidded gaze. There weren’t any tears he could shed. Not here anyway.

* * *

Amagasaki has always been a place of constants so it’s natural that once Kiyoomi became a part of his life, he became a part of Amagasaki too. 

Now, he’s a part of what makes it whole. 

So Atsumu wonders if home will ever be the same again. 

He gets up and stares out the window and recalls the times that Kiyoomi has been in his childhood home. It wasn’t the furthest from Osaka. Not when they were renting an apartment in Kyūhōji and not when they finally got their own house at Miyakojima-ku. His mother loved Kiyoomi. Loves. Adores. From the moment he was introduced to the family it was always “Is Kiyoomi-kun joining us on golden week?” or “Will Kiyoomi-kun join us for new years?” and of course the answer had always been yes. 

It was a straightforward cut but the moment Sakusa came out to his parents, they made him choose between Atsumu or having their support. No wonder Sakusa stressed about it so much about it. He knew jack shit about rent, utilities, and most of the nuances that made up the adult world but then he had a vision. It wasn’t very Kiyoomi-like to not pull through. 

Atsumu tries to distract himself by taking things out of the closet and refolding them. Just anything to rearrange with his hands and he hopes that his mother won’t come in to call him for lunch because he doubts anything will stay in. He notices that the clothes are folded the way Sakusa does it-- the seams folded inward. Atsumu disassembles it all in frustration but when he starts folding, he realizes that he’s doing it the same way. 

_‘Yea. Of course. I live with the guy. Lived. Right. Of course, of course, of course.’_

His eyes get hot but he just presses his palms to it for a few seconds and resumes tidying up.

* * *

Sakusa had been meaning to come out to his parents for a while. It wasn’t up for consideration when he was in college because he was financially dependent on them but after enlisting with MSBY, moving to Osaka, and seeing how far he’s able to spread his paycheck by being frugal, he’s able to more or less live without his parent’s subsidy. This made him less anxious. Not that he only cared about their money but if he wanted to do this then he should be prepared for more than hurt feelings. He hasn’t touched any of the money they’ve given in the past year; actually none of it since he started playing professionally. They’ve been in contact and they have asked him if he’s in a relationship. They even said he looks happier. 

_‘Will they be just as happy if I tell them it’s because of Atsumu?’_ He asked himself. He leaned into the couch of the shared housing he has with the MSBY team. _‘Will they allow me this happiness?’_

“Omi-kun?” 

The small crack in the voice could not be mistaken for anyone else. Atsumu. 

“Hey” Omi whispered and beckoned for him to come closer by offering his outstretched arms. Atsumu approached him with the haziness of sleep still clinging to him. He fell willingly into Kiyoomi’s arms. 

“What are you doing up so early? Go back to sleep Tsumu.” Omi said and smiled into the blond’s hair. 

“Ya left me there. ‘m got worried.” 

“I think I’m ready to tell my parents about us Atsumu.” The setter got up abruptly and gaped at Kiyoomi as if he told him he was from a different planet. 

“Wait. What? I--” He stopped himself and scanned Kiyoomi’s features-- He looked sad but not uncertain. “Are ya sure?”

“Yes. Then after them.” He kissed Atsumu’s cheek. “The rest of the world.”

Before leaving the closet, he mapped their next trip. Planned it carefully. A few months after he turned 23, they go to the southernmost end of Japan. 

* * *

Minamiōsumi, Kagoshima. 

“Why here Omi?” Atsumu asked him. He wasn’t entirely sure himself. He just remembered one day after an afternoon match while walking to the dorms with the rest of the team-- afternoon light shining on Atsumu and his laughter-- bathing him in gold. _‘That’s the kind of person you’d want to brag about’_ he thought then as a wave of selfishness consumed him. At least once before he tells their entire world about them, he wanted to have Atsumu all to himself. As far as they can get away from everyone. 

“Because we don’t know anyone here and I just…” It was high noon at Sata Misaki and the ocean sparkled as the sun hit the gentle waves. Nothing. Nothing can ever be more than Atsumu in his world. “I love you. Very much. Atsumu. ” 

Atsumu raised his eyebrow. Touched and amused at the same time. “Alright then. Scream it out.” He said teasingly but he’s taken off guard by Kiyoomi turning to face the edge of the cliff they were on and yelled as loud as he could: 

“I FUCKING LOVE YOU ATSUMU MIYA!”

Breathlessness took over them both. Kiyoomi slowly turned to face Atsumu looking shocked at himself and the exhilaration of freedom. He almost can’t wait. If it’s for this then he could take his chances on the consequences of truth. This truth. Atsumu- the immutable truth in his life.

* * *

“I love you Kiyoomi.” 

He whispered to the man sleeping on the hospital bed. 

* * *

“I love ya Kiyoomi.”

He whispered over the phone one cold winter night. He was 21 years old. 

“It’s only a matter of time Atsu.” Omi’s voice cut through the noise in his mind.

* * *

“Thanks! Love ya, Omi!”

He said loudly as Kiyoomi handed him a bottle of shampoo on his way into the showers. Inunaki almost got whiplash and a confused Meian yelled. 

“WHAT?!” 

Kiyoomi gave everyone a passive stare then pushed the door open, just enough to take a peek and with his eyes still locked on Shion Inunaki, he declared: 

“Love you too Atsu.” 

Everyone present- Meian, Inunaki, and Bokuto just lost it. 

* * *

It’s an afternoon mid-April and in less than a day Atsumu would be playing his first game for the new season.

Miya Atsumu sat beside a hospital bed and held one of Kiyoomi’s hands. It was a good day- he could feel a week grip from Omi and there was a soft smile he could see on the man’s eyes. He still couldn’t talk but Atsumu had high hopes. They’ve been there more than a month already so his Omi should start getting better. He could even write on his palm to communicate.

He blinked livelier and nudged his hand, urging Atsumu to speak. Atsumu would recount practice and relay all the well wishes. His eyes looked tired but he stayed up to listen. 

“I can’t wait for you to get better Omi-kun.” He said. “We can go visit Kamakura again. Ya like that Omi-omi?”

He’s answered by silence. Kiyoomi closed his eyes shut and Atsumu missed the single tear that fell on one eye. 

_‘But Atsumu. I don’t think I can.’_

“We have a game tomorrow Omi… With the Adlers.” A weak squeeze on his hand. “I’ll go win it for you, okay?”

_‘Okay, Atsumu. I know you can win.’_

He opened his eyes and looked at Atsumu. The man looked exhausted. All of this he’s been dealing with on top of being a professional athlete. Kiyoomi couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty but he knew that it could all be over soon. 

_‘Are you tired yet?’_ He wanted to ask but he couldn’t. He hasn’t been able to for quite some time. _‘I’m sorry but I am. So very tired love.’_

Atsumu regaled him with promises of how they would celebrate if they win the match. Kiyoomi was happy. 

_‘Can I be selfish for a little bit longer? I just want you here.’_

Atsumu stayed the night and by morning he left to play the Adlers game. 

* * *

A different form of misery comes in the form of a phone call from Komori Motoya. He answers it and the first thing he hears is an ugly kind of sniffling, a hiccup, and an apology. 

“I’m sorry Miya. I tried.” There’s a rasp to his voice and guilt that shouldn’t be there. Komori has been nothing but kind and supportive. Atsumu had met Kiyoomi’s parents and he knows what they think of him. Of their own son for being in love with him. Motoya did not represent their bigotry so he doesn’t know why he’s apologizing. 

“If I try again they’re kicking me out too.” The man sobs. Atsumu doesn’t say anything. “It’s Kiyo! I-- I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Atsumu is tired. Tired, angry, and an unnamed feeling festering in his chest. None of this is Komori’s fault. He shouldn’t be apologizing. But Motoya shouldn’t be burdened by his anger now. He did love Kiyoomi too and it’s him he’s trying for. 

“Motoya.” He says. He really doesn’t know where the evenness of his voice is coming from. “Be there for Omi and me. ‘M sure that’s what he would’ve wanted.” 

_‘As if I’d know. As if I would fucking know. Were you happy with me Kiyoomi?’_

A hitch on the libero’s breath. “Okay Miya… I-- Thank you… Thank you for loving Kiyo.”

Atsumu doesn’t want to cry. Doesn’t know how to yet. So he chokes on air and says his goodbyes. 

“I’ll see you in Osaka or Tokyo.” Komori says before hanging up. 

He doesn’t know how to do that yet too so he finds some comfort in being in Amagasaki but he looks at the corners of his room and he sees memories of Omi inside his room eating umeboshi like nobody’s fucking business and the kisses after that tasted of sour plums. Omi heavy-lidded with the tinge of purple on his tongue peeking as he licked his lips. 

There is no escape, is there? _‘Where can you not haunt me? Where can I see your ghost?’_

He grew up in this place, in this room, in this bed where nightmares never lasted. But this absence in his heart and in his life. 

_‘What the fuck is this?’_ ‘What the fuck is this?” he exhales then all of a sudden every little corner and every detail he sees reminds him of Kiyoomi. 

There’s sunlight? There’s a memory of Kiyoomi in Kamakura by the setting sun. 

A blanket? Kiyoomi’s been wrapped in one. Has been wrapped in one with Atsumu as they steal body warmth to get through cold nights and fucking power outages. 

The floor? They’ve fucked on the floor. Even right here in Amagasaki. _'Fuck.Fuck.Fuck'_

Dust? Oh boy, you don’t know Kiyoomi and his bullshit. “No Atsu, baby. You don’t use those. It’s a stovetop cleaner. Use it for the goddamn stove.” 

“Can’t we just like… bleach?”

“I can’t believe I let you kiss me.”

Bullshit. All of it. Kiyoomi is gone. His family will never allow him closure but he doesn’t care. He thinks he’s won it-- he’s the one who got to spend the last 12 years with Kiyoomi. 

_‘But it’s not enough. It will never be fucking enough.’_

He spirals from there. As if he’s been plunged into the deepest part of the fucking Mariana trench- he cries. 

No. Not cry. He weeps, sobs, and screams through the unbelievable pain in his heart. It alarms his mother and Osamu who just got there and they run immediately to his side. They hold him in their arms and Atsumu is afraid that if they let go, he’ll die too. Just fall straight into a void but he doesn’t stop. It hurts everywhere- his chest, his head, and his entire body. They’re trying to soothe him but he can’t return anything. Not now that he’s understanding with his whole being that Kiyoomi is gone and that he has to let him go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I just want to be clear. I'm not writing this just to make some people cry. It's a story that came to mind remembering a few friends I've lost to unfortunate circumstances and the people left behind who live past the loss. It's weird to put it into fanfiction writing I know, it's just that the manga quote: "And, if I'm lucky... to go out thinking I could be done at any time, and still be satisfied." reminded me so much of them. So it's sort of a challenge to show that A's grief and K's life that they were able to make full.
> 
> That sounds like rambling. Sorry. 
> 
> :) I hope I'm able to get some grief and truth across with not so many words.


	5. Side A- Part III- Recollection I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where this is going but it will end eventually.

Atsumu doesn’t return to Osaka for more than a month. 

* * *

Senior Year Summer Training Camp. Ajinomoto National Training Center, Tokyo. 17. 

They just finished a back-to-back rally and they were allowed to take a break for the rest of the afternoon before the final set of practice games at 5 pm. 

Kiyoomi sees Miya Atsumu up on the bleachers where the windows are- staring at the rain outside and frowning. A few minutes later he overheard him telling his brother over the phone that the “rain doesn’t smell right.” and “I like the rain there better.” 

He never thought about rain and what he felt about it except it draws people into crowds as they seek shelter. So maybe it was a bit annoying for him but then again, it’s one of those things that he would have little control over so it would be pointless to be too miffed about it. How Atsumu reacted piqued his curiosity though so he did was he saw most fit- he approached the setter. 

“Miya.”

Atsumu was jolted from his thinking. “Ah. Omi-kun. How can I help ya?”

Sakusa was taken aback by the blush coloring Atsumu’s face high on the cheekbones. 

“Are you sick?” He frowned and asked. 

It’s not something most people noticed but Atsumu has mellowed considerably through the years. He’s still as intense on the court but the courtesy he extends other players seems to have leaked into their reality outside the volleyball court. 

The setter laughed and rubbed the back of his neck bashfully with one hand and waved the other in front of him, signaling that maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to be too close. 

“I know it looks like it Omi-kun, but I ain’t sick… Just sinuses when. Ugh. ” He winced. “Air pressure. It gets to m’ head sometimes. Just didn’t know it would be worse here’s all.” 

Atsumu smiled. The redness on his face made him look a little bit gentler. “Don’t worry bout me. ” 

Kiyoomi looks at him for a while and considers maybe helping out. He always brings a basic medical kit with him and Motoya had the same condition except he was allergic to ibuprofen. He watched the setter crouch and press his palms on his temples.

“I have Tylenol.” He blurted out. Atsumu looked at him like he grew a new set of balls or something. “Wait here. I’ll go get it.” 

Atsumu wasn’t intentionally rude as most people thought. He wouldn’t accept help and leave one person to do all the work- even if it was just walking. He got up and still kept his distance but followed right behind Sakusa. 

“I’ll go with ya so you won’t have ta walk back.” 

Sakusa stared but shifted his gaze immediately before Atsumu could notice. “Okay Miya.” 

They walked silently until Sakusa remembered. “What do you mean by the rain doesn’t smell right?” 

“Ah… That.” Atsumu twisted his tongue in his mouth. “It’s just different in Amagasaki.”

“How so?” The blonde raised an eyebrow. Debating whether he’d tell Kiyoomi the truth or lie. Or maybe both and check if he’ll be called out for it which was just absurd. 

“Our parents have Shiso and other herbs planted in our backyard. It smells nice when it rains and it distracts me when I get this-- ” he tapped his forehead with a finger. “This.”

“That...” Sakusa frowned and tried to pick the best words to say what he meant. “Seems like a very small part of living to make you sad.”

“I’m not sad.”

_‘Liar’_ “If you say so. Are you leaving Amagasaki?” 

“Yea. When I go pro.”

Kiyoomi hums. “And Osamu-san?”

“Hey! How come he gets to be ‘Osamu-san’?!” Atsumu yelled but dropped it almost immediately when he remembered that Osamu was quitting volleyball. “The scrub's quittin.”

“Oh? I thought it was going to be the ‘Miya Twins’ for a while.” 

“Yeah… I thought so too. He’s decided a long time but I dunno. It just hits harder now that it’s our last year. Y’know?”

Kiyoomi, in fact, didn’t know. Not really. The closest he could imagine was if Komori would quit volleyball after high school but that wasn’t happening so he had no point of comparison. He didn’t hesitate to let Atsumu know. 

“Why? Did you need him to love volleyball?” 

It was a genuine question and it cracked Atsumu up so much. Because damn it. Kiyoomi was right. He loves his brother and he loves volleyball. Maybe Osamu loved volleyball because of him but it wasn’t that for him. He had an entirely separate love for the sport that’s been separate from everything else he loved in his life. He looked at the boy looking at him passively. Maybe he liked the elusive beauty a bit and on his own.

“No, but give me yer number so I can complain whenever he pisses me off.” 

Sakusa didn’t say anything as they took the hallway bend to his room. “Wait here.” 

After a few minutes, Kiyoomi was back out with a twin pack of Tylenol. “Take the second one if it still persists in 6 hours.” 

And a piece of paper. “I won’t reply often. Especially during exams.”

* * *

He wakes up in the early evening wrapped around comforting warmth and a massive bitch of a headache. 

They say that letting it go and accepting the truth when dealing with grief makes you feel lighter but Atsumu wonders why he feels so empty instead. 

* * *

_‘This isn’t so bad’_ Atsumu thought as he grinned at his phone for the 5th time that morning- he and Kiyoomi spent a good part of the night before watching clips from the Karasuno-Shiratorizawa match from their second year. Their coach had gotten a copy of it from coach Yamiji who happened to be good friends with coach Ukai and since he was captain, he had free access to it. It was probably just by chance that he remembered witnessing a younger Sakusa Kiyoomi imposing on Kageyama Tobio. From his recollection, everyone had been intimidated by the setter from Miyagi. Mainly because his team had beaten Shiratorizawa for the spring high qualifiers but he remembers Sakusa taking it seriously that he couldn’t help but send a message. 

“Omi-kun! I have the video of Tobio-kun’s team beatin’ Ushiwaka-kun.” 

He could see three dots appearing, disappearing then reappearing before he got a response. 

“How?” and “You shouldn’t call him that Miya, he’s a senior.”

“You call him Wakatoshi-kun.” followed by “Also, ‘m team captain! Ya want to watch it or not?”

Of course, Atsumu laid out his conditions that Sakusa could watch as long as they go on video and he’ll share his screen- he wasn’t allowed by their coach to share the video so the most he could think of is sharing his screen while watching it. Kiyoomi reluctantly agreed. He thought it would be a horrible experience but then the timely commentary from Atsumu validated the only area in their lives where he would see them connect- volleyball. 

“Why this game?” Atsumu heard weakly through his computer speakers. 

“My first years suck at blocking.” The blonde setter whined. “Ya saw that the blocking on that game is top tier right? That tall middle blocker they have. Tsukishima? Was it? He’s scary too.”

“Isn’t Suna-san a middle blocker?” 

“It’s not like he’s the type to help anyone with baby steps. All he does is make the newbies feel inferior. And hey! ‘Suna-san’. Really?.” 

“And what do you want to show them exactly?” Sakusa said. Totally ignoring whatever issues Atsumu had with his use of honorifics and half expecting Atsumu to just say something about newbies and scrubs or whatever he was used to hearing for the past 2 years of having camp with Inarizaki. 

“Technique.” Atsumu said. “They can’t just WANT to be as good as Sunarin. They got ta look at their skills realistically and move from there. They can’t just expect to one day wake up and be as good as Ōmimi-san or Washio-san.”

“I didn’t take you as the type to view other people’s progress realistically. Given that you’ve called people ‘scrubs’ in junior high training camps.” The memory of calling Kageyama Tobio some ‘Goody two shoes’ came back to mind too but he opted to not say anything about it considering that their schools have had such an improvement in terms of their relationship with Karasuno. Atsumu huffed but didn’t say anything about Sakusa’s retroactive commentary. 

“You do have a point though. Can you rewind it to when glasses-kun had a one touch on Shiratorizawa’s number 12?” 

“Sure.”

Atsumu played it back on his shared screen. “Also, glasses-kun? You’re only nice to Ushiwaka-san.”

“No. I’m plenty nice to Osamu-san and Akaashi-san.” 

He laughed and teasingly told Sakusa that he can forget any rewinds since he only cared about his twin and other people who were in Shiratorizawa. In which Sakusa denied by saying that he’s also plenty nice to ‘Bokuto-san’ and ‘Hoshiumi-kun’. 

“That’s a lie Omi-kun! I saw you use Moto-kun as a human shield against Hoshiumi more than once!”

They spent a good part of the evening to the early morning rewinding the game on certain parts and taking note of the amateur yet effective blocking techniques that Karasuno was able to use against the other Miyagi powerhouse. They watched other recorded games too, mostly from the Tokyo teams. 

When morning came, Atsumu didn’t feel like he lacked sleep. He was happy to have been able to talk to someone besides Osamu about volleyball. It totally distracted him from the fact that Osamu stayed over at Sunarin’s. He knew that his twin had a thing for the middle blocker so he didn’t want to impose. He just didn’t think that their paths would be diverging sooner. Having spoken to Sakusa made him feel less alone and less uncertain about things. 

It felt good to talk to someone about a shared interest. If he did feel any sort of attraction towards Sakusa then he was careful to store it at the back of his head. _‘Maybe later’_ he said to himself. Also, Sakusa was set for university in Waseda as Motoya-kun told him and he was set to go pro. It would be too bad to be hung up over something that can’t happen because of their differences in priorities.

_‘This isn’t so bad.’_ He thought again as he re-read Sakusa’s message:

“You shouldn’t tell your first years to block to the point of injury. That’s probably unethical. Even for you. Good night Miya.”

* * *

There’s a pitcher of water and a clean glass on his bedside. 

There’s rain outside and he hears the soft pitter-patter as it hits the roof. He remembers Kiyoomi telling him how when he said that the rain was different in Tokyo he didn’t think that he had any preferences but he just noticed how rain in the summer was rather horrible compared to spring rain, even in Tokyo. 

A few years later when he moved into the MSBY shared home in Osaka, he’s able to tell that the difference was so vast. 

One rainy day in Amagasaki and Kiyoomi fully understood what Atsumu meant when they were 17. 

* * *

It was around the end Sakusa’s first year in Waseda when Atsumu realized how deep his feelings for him were. He knew he had a crush on the guy in high school but he didn’t really imagine the feeling blossoming into something more than just that. 

They were each other’s constant contact and they watched each other’s games when they had time. It didn’t matter if it was live. If Kiyoomi had too much to do in university then he settled on watching recorded plays. The same went with Atsumu. If he had a game at the same time as Kiyoomi then he would make sure to watch a recording at a later time. 

Certainty came in the form of almost banging on the horn of his car as he got stuck in traffic on the way to the Waseda Arena after just finishing another game at the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium. The growing frustration Atsumu had towards traffic and the anticipation to see Sakusa on a stage was just overwhelming until-- 

‘ _Oh._ ’ He thought. ‘ _I really really like Omi-kun_ ’

Then ‘ _Fuck._ ’ 

This was the part where he thought he should turn his car around and go back to the gym and possibly join Hinata and Bokuto to their after-game yakiniku or some shit because feelings had always eluded him and as much as he could, he’d rather not get hurt. 

He sat there stewing on this realization right as a red light hit on god knows where Shinjuku. He thought _‘I can just not take the left. I can go to a Tokyo shrine and pray to the gods of Sakusa Kiyoomi.’_

He stared at the traffic lights with an unfounded grudge. What was it that made this all bad anyway? If he were to shut up about it, nothing had to change. When the lights turned green, he decided to take the left- just 10 minutes away. Every turn he could take to drive away from the path to Waseda, he stared at with an odd type of longing. 

_‘Of all people to really like, it had to be Sakusa fucking Omi-kun. Shit.Shit.Shit. I can just take a turn and pretend this all didn’t happen in my head.’_

But he didn’t and soon enough, he got to the Waseda Arena. He pulled up and put on a pair of shades and an Onigiri Miya cap he had in his car. No problems when he got in and he was able to find a place to stand at the back of the topmost bleachers. He got into the middle of the second set of the Waseda-Hosei practice match and for a second he thought of what could have happened if he took up college and ended up playing collegiate volleyball instead. Then he remembers the challenge of getting into the first string- it didn’t take him a year but he had been able to grasp how much he needed to show in such short periods of time-- The satisfaction of each victory and the drive from each loss. 

Atsumu looked at Sakusa- still playing as an outside hitter just as he remained to be a setter. After a particularly satisfying spike, he saw Sakusa look across the net intensely as he clenched his fist in victory. 

‘ _He’s so fucking beautiful._ ’ He thought to himself as the game resumed and Waseda kept on scoring. Sakusa was nothing less than phenomenal on the court. He’s watched several of his recorded matches but videos just couldn’t capture all the focused energy he had on the court. In no time, whistles blow and signal the end of the second set. Waseda won 2 of 3 sets and as if instinctively, as Sakusa wiped his sweat off of his face with a clean towel, he turned and locked eyes with Atsumu. 

There was surprise in his eyes but also something that looked like the beginning of a smile.

* * *

_“I was lucky enough to survive this long. Lucky to meet people. Lucky to still be playing volleyball.”_

Was what Kiyoomi said except life took volleyball from him much too soon and Atsumu couldn’t help but think that it’s all so unfair. 

He could no longer promise an eternity to Kiyoomi so all he said was that he would love him through it all. He already knew that he did not have long with Kiyoomi and he never asked what would happen to him without Omi. Atsumu had been so aware of everything and yet his mind is still trying to push some agenda of denial. Which is pathetic because he knows, even if he loses his mind, nothing can ever compare to Kiyoomi- not an illusion and definitely not the denial that something, someone who was once so splendid in all forms of light could be gone. Even in all depths of darkness in their lives, Kiyoomi was the light that remained for Atsumu. Constant, real, and just for him. 

Atsumu blinks away the new set of tears threatening to spill. He really thought he had nothing left to give but there was so much to unload in this loss and their many years of love.

He gets up and goes to the kitchen mindlessly to get a cup of tea. He finds Osamu doing preparations for Soba. He slumps forward and leans his forehead on his twin’s back. 

“Tsumu… Ya should eat somethin.” Osamu said. “Ma said ya haven’t eaten since ya got here.”

“Mhm..” He says but continues to leech off of Osamu’s warmth. “Omi loved kakiage. Are ya makin some?” 

“Sure. If you want. Have it with the soba. Sit down.”

Atsumu obliges and sits on the counter, looking around blankly. Osamu took a brief look at Atsumu to assess the damage- Eyes, nose, cheeks are all red and his right eyebrow was twitching. Signs that he’s about to have a sinus headache. He occasionally sniffles and rubs the back of his neck. _‘His tells of stress.’_ Osamu notes. 

“Tea?”

Atsumu nods. 

“Samu?” He asks. “Do you think Kiyoomi was happy with me?”

Osamu knows he can’t answer that question on behalf of Sakusa but he knows too that it doesn’t feel like a lie at all when he finds himself saying: 

“Yeah. He was most happy with ya Tsumu.”


	6. Side B- Part III: Recollection II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who've read this far :)

Full coherence that comes by morning sinks Kiyoomi into a void, only to be held in place by Atsumu’s hand on his. The blonde setter was asleep. He remembers seeing him last night and thinking that he’s hallucinating a very realistic apparition of his lover. The one he chose to leave behind. 

He leans back and holds onto the setter’s hand tighter. 

* * *

Nobody wanted to move. Not Suna, not Komori, and definitely not Osamu. They held onto silence as Atsumu walked into the room and held Kiyoomi’s hand. Waited on it with baited breath as Sakusa opened his eyes slowly and looked at Atsumu as if he was a ghost. 

“Please...let me stay.” They all heard Atsumu whisper desperately, followed by the silence.

Different things entered their minds that time. For Komori, it was gratitude. Because he’s always wanted the best for Kiyoomi and really, in all the years they’ve been together, Atsumu Miya always did the impossible and he was always more than enough for his cousin.

Suna shrank into himself as some form of anxiety took hold of him. He’s known Atsumu for a very long time and what he was seeing then was not what he looked like or sounded like. It was like looking at a different person altogether and there’s the fact that this didn’t happen because of an accident. Kiyoomi was sick- it will persist and it will not just eat at him but Atsumu as well. Will it go on until they can't recognize Atsumu anymore? The question made him restless. 

He was only distracted from his thoughts when he felt Osamu’s hand tighten its grip on his. He looked up and noticed how the man had his jaw set and his eyes shut tight as if he was fighting his tears. 

“Sa...mu?” 

As Suna spoke hesitantly, Osamu let out a heavy exhale. At this point, they’ve also gotten Komori’s attention. 

Osamu let go of Suna’s hand, slid against the wall, and hid his face from them both. 

“What’s wrong?” Komori worriedly asked. 

_ ‘He’s fuckin doomed. He’s fucked. He’s gonna get hurt.’  _ Osamu wanted to say but it felt pointless telling anyone such a given. It’s not like he could ever ask Atsumu to leave Kiyoomi and he certainly wasn’t rude enough to voice this out in front of Komori. 

“I just hope everything will be okay.” is what he settled with. No one said anything back. 

* * *

When they studied the concepts of non-newtonian fluids and mathematical singularities in high school, the only way Atsumu retained the information was by thinking of volleyball and Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

He was by no means a romantic but while listening to the concepts, certain ideas came to mind. 

First, he discovered that the word ‘mercurial’ and the element ‘mercury’ had nothing to do with each other but the former had so much to do describing Omi so well in certain aspects. Whether it’s in meaning or the opposite. Second, singularities. When he heard their math teacher callously narrate and describe it as “A point where tangent space may not be regularly defined.” the first thing that came to mind was ‘ _ Like when I set to Omi-kun.’  _

  
The third point was when the teacher then said that “Infinities do not happen physically” it hit a nerve cause his volleyball-obsessed brain just thought ‘ _but_ _I want to play volleyball forever._ ’ without thinking much of other things that he could lose to time. 

* * *

Kiyoomi has always been aware if someone was attracted to him. It wasn’t anything new at 17. After several times of being called out to some isolated part of school just to be given letters written on scented paper and having had the problem of how to turn people down politely, he sort of easily figured out the signs. That and also the part when, at 15, he found out he’s gay because all of a sudden, the signs he would see on others became signs he saw on himself. Except he’d never felt it for a girl and the only person he dared to talk to about it was his cousin Komori. The first thing the libero asked was “Is it Ushijima-san?” Kiyoomi grimaced at the memory. It’s not like Motoya was wrong.

Atsumu was something else though. He could somehow tell when things started changing between him and the setter. It was during the first training camp with Inarizaki in their senior year and the blonde setter held himself back from a loud biting comment after he ridiculously flinched. 

He had always been under the impression that he was the brasher of the Miya twins. He wasn’t exactly wrong but it looked like the responsibilities he had for his team somehow placated that and brought out the more understanding part of Atsumu. He won’t believe that the change he just noticed is something that just happened in the few months between the Spring inter-high and training camp. 

_ ‘He was always a very courteous setter though.’ _

  
  


Kiyoomi found himself observing Miya Atsumu and he found out a few interesting things. One of them being that the blonde was very casually observant and he didn’t hesitate to use his observations. He recalled how Atsumu used his observations to bully Kageyama and the only first year in their team. What he’d noticed at camp is that he still often teased those in the lower year but his jabs often had feedback and he would challenge them to the area where he thought they needed improvement. 

Before, it had only been Osamu who had to deal with his commentary on plays and players alike, now he seemed a lot more open in complementing anyone’s skill as he saw fit. This he had remarked with a seering indentation in his mind when they had a 3-on-3. Ginjima and Suna on his team against Atsumu, Osamu and Motoya. There had already been some kind of an unsettling feeling when he found his eyes constantly gravitating towards the blonde Miya. After scoring a point with a particularly satisfying spike that Osamu tried and failed to block, his eyes drifted, again, towards Atsumu and he saw the boy stare so openly in awe at where the ball ricocheted from. 

At that moment, Kiyoomi had two thoughts. The first one was ‘ _ Ah. This guy really really loves volleyball.’  _ and the second was  _ ‘I must be losing it if I’m thinking that Miya Atsumu is kinda amazing.’ _

Across the net from Sakusa was a Komori Motoya who witnessed them live that short suspended moment- Miya being amazed as if his cousin hadn’t dealt their team a really demotivating blow with that awesome spike and the way Kiyo looked. Oh god. He looked like a god just got on their knees for him. 

At some point, Sakusa asked himself:  _ ‘Will you ever ask me out?’ _ not that he knew what to do after. It was just curiosity. He was thinking about it so hard that he almost missed Atsumu when out of nowhere he yells: 

“Nice kill, Omi-kun!”

As he quickly took 4 steps before his serve. 

“Jump floater!” He heard Suna signaling them but it all went by fast as the ball took a wicked spin, shot right past them, and hit the boundary line for a score. Atsumu looked surprised at himself too. It was the beginning of his hybrid serve and it was a really, really frightening service ace. 

* * *

“Omi.” 

Atsumu speaks and it pulls him out of the vacuum in his mind he wants to disappear into. He opens his eyes and looks directly at the man on his bedside. Now awake. 

“I missed you.” 

The blonde said as he held Kiyoomi’s hand to his face to kiss the knuckles and just breathe him in. Now that he’s awake he can’t seem to find words to convey what he feels and what he’s felt for the past months they’ve been apart and now that Atsumu is in front of him, it’s like he’s already forgotten how to breathe. 

‘ _ I want you to leave. I want you to stay. I want you to go away. I want you by my side always. I’m going mad Atsu.’ _

The man he’s loved for so long was right in front of him. He ran away for a reason-- He had no more volleyball to offer. He was certain that he could manage but what he had in him was something that would just bring suffering to Atsumu. Kiyoomi was sure that Atsumu would be fine. He’d move on and forget him. 

_ ‘ I don’t want him to ever forget me. I don't want to be forgotten. Not by Atsu...' _

"Why didn't ya tell me?" 

He blinks through the dryness in his eyes and the hesitation he feels in his chest. 

“I didn’t want you to stay and deal with this.” 

“What do ya mean you don’t want me ta deal with this?” Atsumu asks with a voice he’s trying to keep calm but is still on the verge of cracking. “I’m not choosing anything else but a life with you.” 

Kiyoomi shakes off Atsumu’s hand on his and covers his face with both of his own. 

“You don’t have to Atsu! You really don’t. Can’t you see? It’s not going to be the same anymore. Didn’t Toya tell you? I’m going to have to live my life with all the doctors’ appointments and the drugs and--” He tries to fight the shivering that’s taking over his hands and his throat as he takes a couple of deep breaths. “You don’t have to do this Atsumu. You’ll just sit there and be helpless in all of this and that’s not-- I don’t.. I can’t do that to you! ”

Whatever emotion Atsumu wanted to contain is set loose the moment Kiyoomi drops his hands to look right at him. 

“Are ya-- Are you pitying me? Kiyoomi?” He turns around and runs both hands on his hair and his tongue on his teeth in frustration. Torn between crying or laughing sarcastically, a few heavy chuckles escape his lips. “Ya serious? Iizuna told me about that time when you were all ‘don’t pity the guy hit by a fucking meteorite’ and yer not wrong! Fuck! Kiyoomi! You’d pity me fer being in love with you? What drugs have they been giving you here? What the fuck are you on? ” 

Atsumu moves closer to the bed and stares him down with tears already freely flowing down his cheeks. Kiyoomi tries to reach for him and make him stop because he’s seen Atsumu genuinely hurt and angry before and it’s not what he wanted to happen when he planned this.

“Atsumu, I--”

“No. No... Shut up Omi. ” The blonde cautiously holds Kiyoomi’s face with his trembling hands and he speaks past wherever it is lodged on his throat “I love you. Don’t ya get that?! For so long Kiyoomi. I know you can see the reality that this ain’t a walk in the park. I see that too. ‘M not stupid, I know that but I love you and want ya just the same. Still. I’d take every minute I could so can you fuckin cut this out? Please?”

Kiyoomi didn’t have the strength to speak anymore so he opted to hold Atsumu’s hand in place and nod as the other man tries to hold himself back from a total meltdown. 

* * *

“Omi-omi. Check this out. How’d ya like our kitchen?” Atsumu announced as he stepped out of the bathroom with only a towel on and pointed at the studio apartment’s kitchenette. 

“I’m surprised it’s clean Miya.” 

Atsumu feigned offense. “We fuck in our house one time and I’m back to being ‘Miya’ huh?” 

“That wasn’t once” Kiyoomi looked up from his phone to throw the blonde a blank stare. “and this isn’t our house.” 

He laughed as he got rid of the towel and jumped into the bed and snuggled close to Sakusa. 

“What kind of house do you want?” 

“One that isn’t cold.” Omi started. “Our house. My family lives in Den-en-Chōfu.”

“WHAT?! Isn’t it super expensive there? Like a celebrity lane too!” 

Kiyoomi nodded. “Yeah. The house I grew up in was a lot of marble and it was cold. My mom liked a lot of trendy designs and redecorated thematically every year. Kind of like a mall. There was one time she went with silver and white. By the end of the year, there was nothing I wanted to touch cause it all looked dirty.”

Atsumu ran his fingers on the bridge of Kiyoomi’s nose and his cheeks then jaw passively as he hummed in thought. 

“That sucks. Our house has so many things that don’t change. Markings on the walls from when Samu and I fought or the ones by the door when ma was keepin track how much we were growin”

“Mhmm. I didn’t think about it much but maybe something like that would be nice.”

“It would be.” Atsumu agreed. 

“The Komori’s.. Toya’s family...they had a kotatsu. I always liked staying over in the winter.” 

Atsumu pulled him close so he could hide his face on the man’s neck. He kept on humming some soft inconsistent tune for affirmation as Kiyoomi talked about the kotatsu and how it was so tacky and if his mom ever got one, it would probably be monochromatic that you’d feel colder just looking at it. 

“Ya think we should get one that’s our highschool colors?” 

Kiyoomi laughed and smiled into Atsumu’s hair. 

“That’s ridiculous Atsu.”

Atsumu hoisted himself by the elbows to look at Omi with raised eyebrows. 

“Ya were complainin’ bout monochrome?” 

Kiyoomi kissed Atsumu- a soft peck on the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I was.” 

Another kiss. “Complain some more.”

Another. “It was horrible.”

Another. “Poor Omi-kun.”

Another. “It was cold.”

And another. “You’ll never feel that with me.”

They kissed more until it turned into a firm liplock and they only parted to breathe only to dive back in. It was hot. Seering where their skin touched. Molten lava in their core and sunlight in their hearts as they took their fill of each other that night. 


	7. Side A- Part IV: Things to Forgive

Their relationship had been rough lately. Atsumu had noticed some changes since they’ve been back to Miyakojima-ku. Kiyoomi, at first, seemed to be happy to be home but was always blanketed by an air of melancholy. Atsumu always tried to make it so that he wasn’t alone at home all the time. Tried to talk less about volleyball when they were together and if he’s able to attend therapy with Kiyoomi then he always makes sure he does. When he can’t he’d ask Osamu or his mom to go with him. Still, the sadness floated around Omi like a shadow that Atsumu tried to gracefully accept into his hand. 

Most days were quiet and as much as Atsumu wanted to confront it, he allowed it all to stay that way. He didn’t want to pressure Kiyoomi to be happy. He’d be damned if the other had to pretend in front of him. 

Their delicate peace was disrupted one morning. Kiyoomi had been more distant than usual and Atsumu found him having tea on their porch, looking out blankly. When Atsumu approached him, he was stopped in his tracks by Kiyoomi telling him, without even looking: 

“I’m thinking of going back to Tokyo.”

They’ve had this conversation several times since they’ve gotten back but Kiyoomi would withdraw and just hide in their shared bedroom without wanting to say anything else. At that moment though, he looked like he didn’t want to go anywhere.

“Why?” Atsumu asked. Bracing himself for something he knew would hurt him. 

“It would be easier for you Atsu… If we separated... I can… maybe ask Toya’s parents’ help.” Kiyoomi voiced carefully and with clarity. His conviction just aided in digging into the old wound from when he got back from Brazil. 

“Why’re we doin this again Kiyoomi?” He asked with his teeth clenching involuntary from tension.

“Why are you still doing this?” Kiyoomi asked back, sounding so tired and almost exasperated. 

He tried to remain calm but the emptiness in Kiyoomi’s eyes as he casually spoke grated at him. As if it wouldn’t drop Atsumu into the deepest pit of misery he’d never hoped to experience if he just left him there. 

“Why are you onto that again? Huh? Why’re ya so hell-bent on leaving me? Is this why you’ve been so unhappy? Why d’ya think that I’ve got so much ahead of me and the only thing stopping me from it is you? Yer not, okay?” He said, sounding almost angry but he also appeared like he was about to cry. “Why’re we talkin’ about this again?”

“Please stop... Atsumu.” 

“Listen to me. Listen to me Omi… this?” he gestured at Kiyoomi. “Us? We’re not gonna be finished because of this. You think you’re doin me a favor by acting like removin' yerself makes it any easier for me? Yer wrong. Yer wrong...” 

“Atsumu… stop… just don’t.”

“Don’t what? How many times are we doin this Omi? ”

“As many times as it takes because you don’t fucking get it Atsumu!” Kiyoomi snapped. “You don’t see yourself when you’re dragging yourself through the dirt just to keep up with everything-- the games, my appointments, and all the shit that comes with me and this…. You don’t get it because for you, as long as you don’t let go of your love for me, it’s fine. But what about me? Am I just supposed to watch as you waste away like this?! You think I don’t love you enough to not feel guilty that you could do so much better with your time than getting stuck with a depressed former athlete who can’t even--”

He was stopped by a sob that painfully forced itself out from his ribcage. Atsumu got on his knees abruptly and visibly held himself back from holding Omi’s hands. He wasn’t crying yet but his eyes looked glassy and Omi could see the trembling he tried to keep at bay. His own tears uncontrollably falling. Atsumu kept his balled fists rested on his thighs. 

“I’m not tired Kiyoomi… I get exhausted just like any fucker on earth but ’m not tired…Not of ya. Never. But you are.” A sharp inhale. “and I’ve been ignoring it because I’ve been afraid of this… of not being able to keep ya. Talk ta me Omi, please.”

“I am…” Kiyoomi choked out. 

“No yer not. Yer telling me that yer leaving and you’re not giving me a chance here. At least give me that.” 

Kiyoomi was already heaving and crying at that point but Atsumu made no move to coddle him and he did nothing to get closer to Atsumu. 

“I don’t want any of this Atsumu.” 

“I know Omi.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

Atsumu moved closer and leaned in until his forehead touched Kiyoomi’s good knee. “Then don’t make me leave and let’s figure this out together. Like we’ve always done. I just need you to talk to me. Be frustrated, get angry, or lash out. Take it out on me if ya have to.”

“You know I can’t do that Atsumu.”

“Ya can take it all out on me and I won’t get hurt… Not when it’s you…”

* * *

Komori Motoya was the most subtle and effective wingman. Not that Kiyoomi needed any kind of prompts to like Atsumu more than he already did. There was already a natural progression to whatever connection they had forged. There was no need to force anything else but there are times when Kiyoomi felt uncertain and Komori had often been around to witness those moments. His cousin had always been composed-- even as a child it was rare to see Kiyoomi lose composure. Even when he came out to Komori, he wasn’t exactly flustered or anything. In fact, Kiyoomi was a bit more of a reaction when he had mentioned Ushijima and badgered him about his crush. He had blushed a bit and mumbled something like “He’s an admirable person. Just in general.” It was an adorable crush his cousin had and he figured that he might still be figuring out the depth of his feelings and, in their final year, he found out just how right he was. 

Ushijima was great alright. If Kiyoomi ended up dating Ushijima, it won’t be the end of Komori’s world. But whatever it is they had couldn’t hold a candle to the fire ignited in Kiyoomi by Miya Atsumu. 

Of course, it had been a surprise but Komori is the type of person to easily accept facts. ‘ _There’s more than one realist in the family._ ’ He thought. With that came the objective analysis of how his cousin, Kiyoomi Sakusa, accepted Atsumu into facets of his life that never saw the light of the sun. 

When Kiyoomi engaged himself in the possibility of entertaining his fancy for Ushijima, he was in a constant state of being excited but also he kept double-thinking everything- how to act, what to say. Almost nothing came naturally except the admiration he had for Shiratorizawa’s ace. 

It was all different with Atsumu. Komori was lucky to have witnessed the first few interactions they’ve had when they were at the National Youth camp because it was all gauges and hostile stares up until the Spring Interhigh then out of nowhere, after training camp, they decided to be civil. 

He even caught Kiyoomi staring at Atsumu in awe once. It wasn’t that his cousin was never astounded by anything- he was in fact very appreciative of many amazing things and was a very fun point of discourse when they happen to enjoy the same book or Netflix series but he had always been hellbent on not showing anyone whenever he was, in any way, impressed. 

A more odd, and slightly spooky discovery was the disarming nature of Miya Atsumu. There had been a time in the second training camp they had with Inarizaki during their senior year when it was hosted by Kamomedai and in some form of solidarity, the students of the hosting school were asked to mandatory join the visitors in meals. Hoshiumi decided to join them and he’s a great guy but someone that Kiyoomi could only have in small doses. 

A fact that he didn’t know Atsumu knew of but he was grateful nonetheless when the setter decided to leave his twin in favor of sitting on their table. Atsumu was able to balance the conversation almost immediately as he sat almost across Kiyoomi and raised his eyebrows at the outside hitter then turned, rested his chin on a palm, and faced Hoshiumi.

‘ _What the hell was that?_ ’ Komori thought. 

“So Kōrai-kun. I heard from Hirugami-kun that ye’v been badgering yer coach to get into camp with Karasuno.”

“YES! We had a poll on who to invite but your teams just had to win it!”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re here right?” Komori mediated but Kamomedai’s wing spiker bristled and started to animatedly talk about how it would be such a great rematch since he couldn’t feel but disappointed that the game couldn’t end with Hinata on the court. 

“Oh, I know someone else who wants to beat Karasuno too. Except he’d be after one of the seniors. Too bad he graduated hm?” He turned to Kiyoomi again. Komori looked between them both- he did not know who Atsumu was pertaining to and he usually does. 

“They still have their #4,” Kiyoomi said. 

Atsumu looked up as if trying to recall something. “Libero?” 

“Nishinoya-kun?” Komori supplemented. 

“So #1, Nishinoya-san and Shōyō-kun vs. Moto-kun, Kōrai-kun and you? ”

“And you?” Sakusa asked. 

“Hmm, maybe set for Shōyō-kun but if Tobio-kun’s playin then I’ll set for the opposite team. ”

“Then he can set for Karasuno.”

“Aw. Yer a handful, whether I play with or against ya. That’s fer sure.”

Komori had always been able to catch subtlety and _‘Oh?’_ He’s not sure if the others caught on it but Kiyoomi just somehow asked Miya to set for their side. Before he could even say anything about it, Kiyoomi had already stood up from their table and excused himself for the showers. Miya looked pleased with himself. Hoshiumi didn’t say anything about it. 

“So Moto-kun. Ya goin pro?” Atsumu asked him all of a sudden. 

“Yeah, I guess. I sort of have a plan A and plan B but if I get scouted by any of the Tokyo teams then I’ll go for it.” 

“That seems pretty half-assed Komori-san.” Hoshiumi commented. 

Komori laughed. “Well, it’s the way it is I guess. I don’t like not having any fallbacks.”

Hoshiumi huffed and crossed his arms “You say that as if you haven’t been heralded as the best highschool libero for 2 years in a row. I’m sure the scouts are after you. Anyway, I’m going.”

They say their byes and it’s just the two of them left. 

“So. What’s Omi-kun gonna do?” Atsumu asked. Sounding almost shy or like Komori was the last person on his ask list. 

“What? He hasn’t told you?” He asked playfully back. 

Atsumu sighed and threw Komori a deadpan stare “Do I look like the type ta ask? YOU looked like yer eyebrows were about to leave yer face. ”

“Well…point. I don’t snitch often but he’s doing uni. Waseda I think.” 

Atsumu looked at the ceiling pensively. “Ah. That so?”

Somehow, Komori thought that if their relationship was anything like he thought it was then Atsumu would be a lot more upset about the fact that Kiyoomi would be turning down offers and will be doing college first. He’d seen the video posted by Suna on Instagram when the twins fought over Osamu quitting volleyball. The Atsumu he saw was different from that-- no violent reactions. Just a contemplative quiet that didn’t last too long. 

“Hmm. ‘m sure he’d be takin collegiate vball by storm then.”

“You don’t think it’s a waste?” He asked. 

Atsumu laughed and picked up his tray. A signal that he had been about to leave. 

“Why would I think that? It’s Omi-kun, he knows what he’s doin.”

Of course, he wasn’t going to disagree, but it was strange not to be the only one with the confidence to say so. 

* * *

Atsumu remembers the time they drove to Kamakura in June, almost a year after Kiyoomi got his leg amputated. Things were getting better after their rough patch from when they returned to Osaka from Tokyo in February of the following year Kiyoomi had been diagnosed. 

He recalls how the trip had been planned-- he found Kiyoomi that morning up early and organizing files on his computer. They had so many pictures taken from many trips. Some with their team, some with just a few people, and for most of it, it was just the two of them. Kiyoomi liked to organize the files by Month, year, and location so he started doing that to pictures he was able to retrieve from their very first road trip.

Whenever Kiyoomi found himself on a project, Atsumu tried to not interfere but he made sure that Kiyoomi would eat and take his medication. It took a while but they were able to strike some balance between their calendars and being together without it being suffocating for either of them. Kamakura came up when Atsumu brought Kiyoomi some tea in their shared study and found the man looking at a picture of a particularly red sunset. He remembered that trip-- they had “kidnapped” Komori after winning a match against the EJP Raijins. Took him out to the bay with a 6-pack and told him that they were dating. For 4 years, at that point. 

“You want to go visit?” 

Kiyoomi smiled. “It’s a long drive though. Atsu.”

“You know I like long drives and I remember you like that set meal with the pickled stuff in Goodmorning Zaimokuza. Remember?”

“That’s because we ran out of the ume-shiso jam that ma made way before umeboshi season.”

He laughed then. It warms his heart to this day that Kiyoomi learned to call his mom ‘ma’ too. It took a while because he was shy. He didn’t stutter or anything but he didn’t reach back when people reached out to him so one day when they were out in Amagasaki during the offseason, Kiyoomi helped his mom prep for dinner and when his mom pinched his cheek and said thank you, he replied with a “You’re welcome ma.” and that was that. He knew he was doomed. 

“Get us a room in Zaimokuza? I’ll pack for us both.”

The bright smile Kiyoomi had then was something he wishes would come to his dreams every night. It had been a 6-hour drive that they took leisurely. They arrived just as the sun was setting so Atsumu found a spot to park and Kiyoomi took photos. He took a photo of Kiyoomi that time and he briefly wonders where he kept the copy.

His thoughts were interrupted by Osamu’s soft knocking on his door. 

“Tsumu? Y’awake?” His brother calls out from outside. 

“Yea.” He says loud enough to hear. “What is it?”

“Komori-san is here.” Osamu says. “Ya comin’ down?”

He gets up abruptly. “I’ll be down in a sec.” 

He checks his phone to see if there are any messages he’s missed over the morning but there’s none and that makes him feel less bad for being unprepared for a visit even if he’s sure that Komori won’t mind. 

When he gets downstairs he sees that Suna had arrived with Komori too and he stands to leave as he approaches them both. 

“I’ll be in the kitchen Tsumu. ”

“Sure.” He says back. 

“Sorry to come by uninvited. The team had a practice match in Osaka so I thought that I should pay you a visit.” Komori starts. “Also, I brought you something.”

A phone is placed on the table across him. He knows it-- it’s Kiyoomi’s. The iPhone with the dark blue case and the sticker of a weasel. “Wha--”

“I couldn’t get anything else. I stole this from the hospital.” 

It’s a bit stupid really. He had an entire house filled with memories of him and Kiyoomi. Closets filled with clothes. Dishes they’ve collected. Little trinkets, refrigerator magnets from trips. They have their own preferred mugs for their morning coffee. Their home in Osaka had Omi’s computer he knew the password to and his heavy bass speakers he liked playing music with. Komori didn't have to do thievery for anyone but the sentiment wasn't lost on him. 

“I know it’s not a lot. I just… You know, it’s so hard to see this when I know that all Kiyo would have wanted was more than a lifetime by your side.” 

“I… Thank you Moto-kun.” Tears really can’t be helped right? He’s been crying on and off for days. For fuck’s sake, he’s in his thirties. He’d have thought that he would be able to take things like this gracefully. There’s no grace in how he feels like caving into himself again just as he did the day after Kiyoomi died but he doesn’t. He wipes his face with his sleeves and thanks Komori again. Osamu and Suna alerted by Atsumu’s crying and were now listening in from the kitchen. 

“Omi won’t pressure ya to do anythin’ ‘m sure. I did get him a lifetime by my side… ” he says in between sniffles and tries to laugh or something. “Too bad he couldn’t stick around for more...huh. ”

Komori tears up too but he too holds himself from bawling. “I’m really sorry Atsumu.”

“Ya didn’t do anythin' wrong Moto-kun. You know I was thinkin'. Maybe Omi-omi just wanted to get to the afterlife before we all die and bring our germs all over.” His try at a pathetic joke to pull out whatever pathetic laughter he had in his guts. 

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” 

Not the most convincing to everyone around him but no one calls him on his shit.


	8. Side B- Part IV: Microcosm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some sexual intimacy depicted. It's not exactly graphic so I don't think I should tag it with smut so I'm leaving a warning here. Also mentions amputation. Will probably get more graphic in the illness section in the last 2 chapters. 
> 
> Thank you to those who have gotten this far. Updates will be slower but I intend to finish this fic :)

Therapy is already so much shit and phantom limb pain is so real but he tries to think it isn’t which makes it even more frustrating. 

‘The leg isn’t there anymore. Stop hurting.’ Kiyoomi tells himself. Hoping that it’s all in the mind. His brain is just being a little bitch even if he knows it’s not true. It isn’t the case but it doesn’t make his grievances any less hard to deal with. He pushes down his feelings, quickly presses his palms over his eyes, and keeps them there for a few seconds. Atsumu is waiting outside and he really doesn’t want his boyfriend to feel sorry for him or feel bad at all. It sucks but none of it is Atsumu’s fault. Who does he blame though? Where will he put all of this restless energy? He tries to think around it but there’s not much time. He leaves the therapy room and meets Atsumu outside. He struggles for a second to hide his exhaustion but he plows through it and manages a smirk.

* * *

“Why did it take so long for you to ask me out?” Kiyoomi asked him randomly one early morning. They were in Zaimokuza-- Omi is 22, they’ve been dating for 3 years. He’d be out of Waseda in less than a year. 

Atsumu hummed as he ran his fingertips along Kiyoomi’s jaw to his cheekbones to his hairline before getting his fingers tangled through his dark hair. He kissed Omi’s forehead. 

“When d’ya think I should’ve asked ya out?” he rasped out. His vocal cords not yet quite awake. Kiyoomi whimpered as Atsumu continued touching him. He settled one hand on his side and the other on the back of his neck with his thumb rubbing circles on the back of his ears. 

“Hnghh… Atsu.” 

“I had many chances to tell ya. I know.” Atsumu maneuvered so he’s on top of Kiyoomi. Knees and arms braced to trap him underneath. One hand was still on Kiyoomi’s hair while the other had moved to trace his ribs. “It’s alright… Omi. When did’ya want me to ask ya out?” He breathed on Kiyoomi’s skin. 

Atsumu loved making love to Kiyoomi in the early morning. It was when he was most pliant and honest. How many times have they been caught up in each other with limbs tangled and words whispered in between the narrow space between them? It’s been too many times at that point but it’s always something that Atsumu savored. He pinned him down and touched him some more. Kiyoomi allowed his fingertips to wander and leave traces of electricity on the surface. 

“Senior year. Inter high. Ah... Tsumu...” He answered in between moans. 

“That early?” He said as he ran his tongue upwards on the side of Kiyoomi’s neck where he could feel the heavy thumping of his pulse. He nibbled lightly on the skin there and pressed his lips down to stop Omi’s squirming. "You've liked me that long?" 

“Was it? A long time? Atsumu?” He asked as he thrust his hips up to rub against Atsumu. “I think... We can do more.” 

Fuck. He felt so hot and was it strange that he felt like it was in the way? Sometimes he would think of how morbid his thoughts would be whenever they’d be this close. Like he wanted to take up space within Atsumu’s rib cage and sleep while cradling his heart closer to his. Like there’s no distance small enough to be removed. Like every millimeter of skin that brushes would create an amalgamation that made them whole. 

“Kiyoomi,” Atsumu whispered. Almost pleading as if he was the one restricted by Kiyoomi’s limbs even if all the man has done was keep his grip on his shoulders tight and his half-lidded stare fixed onto him. He briefly wondered how Kiyoomi sees this- he’s certain that there’s something unsexy about wanting someone so much but it’s not shame that floods his being at that time. Atsumu isn’t a liar. If he longed for Kiyoomi that much, he wasn’t going to go through any means to hide it. Not when he saw the same burning desire reflected in Omi’s eyes. Simmering and unhurried. 

He cupped Kiyoomi’s cheek with his hand and felt his own breath hitch at the sight of him leaning into the touch. 

“We can do more time like this huh...” 

“Mhmm. Yeah.” Kiyoomi easily agreed. 

They kissed. Softly with their tongues exploring the crevices in between and behind teeth. Probing the subtle taste of the other’s mouth. Their chests were pressed close as their heartbeats mirrored each other's heavy pace as its echoes reverberated to the tips of their fingers. Atsumu’s kisses left Kiyoomi’s lips and ventured further down his throat, his shoulder, chest, abs. He sucked subtle marks on Kiyoomi’s hip before taking him into his mouth. Kiyoomi moaned under his ministrations and for Atsumu, the grip Omi had on his hair was nothing less than holy. 

“Atsumu…” an utterance of his consuming hunger. “Want... more.”

Atsumu pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and kissed a prayer on Omi’s chest-- just above his heart. 

“Can I come closer?” 

“Yes,” Omi said under his breath. “Please, love.”

* * *

Tokyo // 20 - Ryokan Nikō 

Kiyoomi is pinned on the tatami floors. Not that he knew what to do and nor did Atsumu but there was a call for each other’s presence that was becoming harder to deny. 

It wasn’t their first time in the Ryokan. Atsumu had taken him there because he said that he secretly hoped that his dormitory had tatami flooring. They’ve been there several times but they never went beyond what was comfortable for Omi. They kissed languidly as they tested waters with kisses that strayed beyond their lips and touches that became more daring. 

There was something inside Kiyoomi that had learned to covet the man before him and the desire they’ve both held at bay clawed at them relentlessly. 

“We’ll take this in yer pace Omi. Tell me if you want more.” Atsumu said as they kissed some more, their pace becoming frantic. “How do ya want this?”

“In any way Atsumu.” He gasped out and Atsumu paused and looked at him carefully. 

“I want you inside me.” 

* * *

“ I want ya… Omi.” He said. His voice so unique to him only that if he lost his sight, he would never mistake him for anyone else. 

_‘Yes, want me. As I want you.’_

Atsumu continued whispering his exaltations and prayers on Kiyoomi’s skin as the latter heard the bottlecap close and open before slippery wet fingers dug deep into his core slowly. They’ve done it in urgency before when they would steal a few hours off of each other’s busy schedule just to have a taste, but now, Atsumu was being careful. He was familiar with Kiyoomi’s body and he knew where to touch to allow pleasure to reverberate. 

He unraveled achingly and deliberate on Atsumu’s meticulous hands and the small peeks he was able to take off of the blond’s unwavering and focused stare. 

_‘Will we always want each other so much?’_ Kiyoomi briefly wondered before Atsumu hit a spot inside him that made his brain abandon coherence. 

“Again.” He could vaguely hear Atsumu whisper but _‘Yes, again. More.’_

“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi gasped out. He didn’t need to look-- he could hear the crinkling of the condom wrapper, the sound of Atsumu taking a deep breath and hissing as he prudently buried himself into Kiyoomi. He already knew what Atsumu was doing and he welcomed the intrusion. 

“I love you, Kiyoomi.” 

There was a stillness that overcame them both upon Atsumu’s confession. It’s not like Atsumu had never said it before but there’s an inflection to his voice and when Kiyoomi opened his eyes to blink away the initial pain of ingress, he sees adoration and veneration in Atsumu’s eyes. 

‘ _What did I do for you to give me this much?_ ’ “Atsu?”

“Hurts? Omi?” Atsumu asked. 

Kiyoomi shook his head. “No, no. I love you,” he whispered and rolled his hips to bring them closer and Atsumu deeper inside him. He gasped “Move, Atsumu.”

* * *

_‘Not all days are bad days’_ Kiyoomi muses as he does the dishes. There’s no pain in his leg today. Atsumu will be home in a couple of hours from a match in Tokyo and he’s halfway done with the puzzle he’s been working on-- it’s a fox with its pieces distinctly shaped like many different kinds of animals. Every time he would find an interesting piece, he would take a picture and send it to Atsumu and since the latter is on a train, he would respond with whatever opinion he had on it. 

Kiyoomi’s phone pings and it’s a long message from Atsumu talking about dragonflies and about a time his family went to Kashiwara to visit a relative. They packed up for a summer picnic along the banks of the Yamato River. That time they were told that to catch a dragonfly without a net, they would have to twirl a finger several times and keep the dragonfly in a trance then catch it quickly with bare hands. It didn’t work for the twins. Not then and not when they returned a couple of years later. He smiles at the message and sends a response along the lines of “It didn’t occur to you both to bring a net on your next visit?” 

“It’s the challenge Omi!” He replies back with 10 different emojis. 

He takes a break from the puzzle in favor of checking the water level of their succulents and decides to water their hanging Burro’s tail. He marks the calendar they keep for monitoring how often they water their plants. There are some dates populated by Atsumu’s more natural and flowing handwriting that some of the markings leave the boundaries of the date he’d intended to write on. There’s a strong feeling of peace that overcomes Kiyoomi at that moment. 

_‘How lucky am I to know him down to these small details about Miya Atsumu. How he writes on calendars. How he likes his coffee. How his tone changes on messages depending on the mood. How he likes his soba and where to get “acceptable” fatty tuna.’_

Omi ruminates more as he thinks of another project to begin. He vaguely remembers being given a polaroid camera by Komori but in between the training and game schedules, he never thought of using it. He rummages through one of their closets in the shared study because that would be the most sensible place his past self might have put it. The camera is there as expected but he also finds the bright yellow Phil Dalhausser/Todd Rogers signed volleyball he received from Shōyō years ago after he transferred to play for Asas São Paulo. The opposite hitter said that it reminded him of Itachiyama’s uniform so he decided to order it for his former teammate. 

Another memory comes to Kiyoomi and this disrupts the peace he felt earlier. He remembers that the ball was given to him by Shōyō after they moved out of the MSBY shared housing. In the middle of unpacking and building furniture they bought from IKEA and Muji, they would take quick breaks by tossing to each other and talking about where they would put whatever it was they were making. 

This is the first time Kiyoomi is seeing a volleyball inside their home since he’s gotten back so he grabs a stool and digs further into the closet-- he finds a medium-sized box that’s haphazardly sealed and he opens it. Inside are volleyball memorabilia they’ve collected through the years. Refrigerator magnets, the big Vabo-chan plushie that Atsumu received from a fan during his first year in the V league. There were also 2 deflated volleyballs he recognizes instantly as the ones they use to bring around when they just wanted to play outside the gym. 

_‘He’s hidden this all from me? All this time?’_ He says to himself. A wave of sadness hits him as he once again appreciates Atsumu and all the man was willing to put himself through for him. He knew he was depressed about not being able to play professionally and for a while, and until now, he feels like his life has been upended another time but this time he wasn’t given the choice to take the leap and he’s left with all the scars from the cliffside he tried to hold onto as he fell. He decided that he’s been unfair to Atsumu. It’s not like he doesn’t love volleyball anymore because he does. Fuck he does and he doesn’t want Atsumu to have to hide every sign of it in their home just so he doesn’t confront his own sadness and his own loss. 

No tears come this time as his thoughts are filled with memories of the games he enjoyed immensely and he gives the ball a toss then catches it. For the first time in a while he’s able to have a positive thought that centered around volleyball. 

Kiyoomi removes his prosthetic leg, lies flat on the floor, and bends his good knee. 

_‘I lost a leg, not an arm. I can still do this.’_ is on his mind before he does basic setting drill. His ball control is still very present as years of practice have embedded the routine into muscle memory. A smile grazes his face as he sets the ball higher and slower. He’s happy that he hasn’t lost it all yet. 

Minutes pass and he’s reminded of why he was rummaging around in the first place. He sits up, returns his leg, and lifts himself up on the chair before getting up. He closes the box where the volleyball things were but doesn’t put it back in the closet. He takes the polaroid camera and the atrociously yellow volleyball and goes to their backyard and snaps a photo of the ball with the Instax and puts it aside. 

He starts to do wall practices and keeps a steady rhythm of bumping the ball as it bounces back and forth from the wall and his wrists. Stamina is still a recovering aspect of his overall health though so he takes a break just after 15 minutes and he heads back inside. He takes the photo he took and takes a picture of it with his phone and posts it on his Instagram. 

Caption: “It’s not as fun playing alone. Be home soon @miyatsumu.”

His phone rings a few minutes later. It’s Osamu. 

“Are ya alright?” His lover’s twin asks almost immediately. “D’ya need anyone there right now? I can go there in like 15 to 20 minutes. Is Tsumu on the way home?”

“Everything’s okay Osamu...” he says softly. “Did you help Atsu hide everything?”

“Ah. That, I--” 

“You don’t have to say sorry. I’m not angry or anything. I understand.” He says before Osamu can say anything. “Atsumu is on his way home. Don’t worry.”

“Are ya sure? Ma says she can come over too and we’ll bring umeboshi.” 

He hugs the volleyball closer to himself and tries hard not to cry. For many years he’s had the care not only of Atsumu but his family as well. They cared for him as if he was one of their own.

“No need… Maybe some other time Osamu. You and ma are always welcome.” he says in between sniffs. 

“Okay, Kiyoomi… I’ll tell ma to schedule. Maybe next weekend?” 

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

In less than half an hour, Atsumu rushes into their home and sees Kiyoomi in the living room working on the puzzle. He’s seated with his prosthetic leg set aside, leaning forward into the volleyball he posted on his Instagram. 

“Omi?”

Kiyoomi smiles at him so radiantly and asks. “Toss to me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah. The "unsexy" line is referrenced from the song "Dionne" by The Japanese House. /tw for the use of the k-word in the song tho.
> 
> Only cause I feel like the unsexy (or for some maybe eerie) feeling of loving someone so much resonates to a lot of people ❤️🍷


	9. Side B- Part V: Long Goodbyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been told that I'm obsessed with the mundane and yeahp. It's true. 
> 
> If you're seeing this then thank you so much for sticking around 😊
> 
> We're nearing the end!
> 
> ** also, this is an MCD. It gets lost in the in-between chapters but that's this fic's ultimate tag. 😞

* * *

The days have been going by slowly and peacefully. It’s been more than a year since the day that drastically changed Kiyoomi’s life and now he’s able to smile more and tell himself that a deeper acceptance of truth makes things a lot easier. Not just for him but for everyone around him as well. 

There were bad days still but they came by less frequently and he knows how to manage them better and he’s able to give Atsumu some much-needed debriefing whenever he goes into his bouts of silence. Those days are when he gets overwhelmed by a lot of insecurities- sometimes it’s about his leg, sometimes about volleyball but the worse are the days when he imagines Atsumu leaving him for someone better and able. Those thoughts make him imagine his parents taking him back and making him apologize for who he is and who he’s chosen to love for many many years and it terrifies him. He always tries to process it all with some kind of distance and sometimes he goes to Komori because his cousin has always understood him better in the context of his family. He tries to accept the emotions as they are without roping Atsumu into feeding him too much comfort so it doesn’t fester and he doesn’t hurt anyone. Also so he doesn’t lean into the inclination of running away again. Because where will he go? His happiness is in the life he’s built with all his habits and all the wonderful people who have given him love and support especially at a time where he’s had to go several squares back to figure himself out and find some direction. 

Today he thinks about it and thinks about the work he’s been able to get through the many connections he’s made in the world of volleyball. He now works alongside Tetsurō Kuroo in the Sports Promotion Division of the Japan Volleyball Association but mainly deals in the marketing strategy faction which allows him to work from home as he pursues other things. Waseda has also given him an opportunity to be a thesis consultant for their graduating from Business and Computer Science students. On his off days, he’s a welcome guest in training the students of Takakura Junior high. 

Atsumu, bless him, always like the sun or some unfairly light-gifted star. He has supported Kiyoomi through the worst of it and has always been involved in his life with the conscious effort to not be suffocating. Again, the question always appears in the forefront of Omi’s mind. 

_‘Why? How are you still here?’_

“Kiyoomi?” He hears Atsumu call out from their bedroom door. 

He’s been thinking and he hasn’t noticed that he’s been staring blankly at his foot. He wants to respond but the words are stuck in his throat. In seconds, Atsumu is in front of him, kneeling and asking him if he’s alright. If he’s feeling anything unusual. 

_‘When I see you. My heartbeat becomes louder and a lot more real inside my chest.’_ Omi thinks as he reaches out to hold Atsumu’s cheeks. ‘ _I know that I love you.'_

He recalls the most recent conversation he’s had with his doctors and the prospects aren’t as bright and he’s begged them not to tell Atsumu. Just his luck that if there’s anything to fuck up it had to be some of the hardest things to fix- his blood and his nerves. It’s not yet detrimental but he’s already accepted the fact that everything he’s doing is just holding everything at bay. It’s all uncertain at this point-- it could take years or it could all just come crashing down tomorrow. He’s lying to Atsumu again but only to make each day easier. The outcome is not so bleak in his mind. Not when it's the same end. What he’s just preventing this time is making Atsumu fear that every morning is the last. He doesn’t want him to worry too much or maybe try too hard for something so futile. 

“Omi… Kiyoomi, hey… Talk to me.” Atsumu leans into Kiyoomi’s touch. He looks scared and Omi remembers the fights they've had every time he tried to pull away. “What’s wrong?” 

He takes Omi’s hands on his own and rubs a thumb on the bruises on his wrists from volleyball. He bruises so easily now. Atsumu frowns at it briefly but tilts his head up to look at Kiyoomi in the eyes again. 

“Nothing’s wrong Atsumu.” He says gently and throws in a soft smile. “Just a slow morning.”

Question paints Atsumu’s features. Almost as if he doesn’t believe him but he doesn’t ask and Omi is grateful. Instead; he smiles back and offers his back to Kiyoomi for a piggyback ride. 

“Let’s get ya breakfast Om?” 

Kiyoomi drops the smile to stare at Atsumu’s broad back and tilts his weight into it without wrapping his arms around Atsumu like usual. 

It's just one of those days where everything can make him cry, he muses but doesn't say but instead blurts out the first thing on his mind:

“Let’s go to Lake Biwa with everyone again?” 

Atsumu giggles and looks up at the ceiling as he recalls the big group trip they made a couple of years ago to Lake Biwa and he imagines traveling with Omi again. It’s been a while. He thinks of his and his teammates’ calendars for the next few months and syncs some estimated dates to what could work. He’d have to call Shōyō later to invite him once he has a more concrete date in mind. 

“The season ends in 3 weeks and we have a couple of weeks before we start off-season training. We can plan something fer then, yea? Let’s all stay at Hikone View again and eat at Futabaso!”

  
  


The setter's excitement endears Kiyoomi, as it has for so many years now, so he hugs Atsumu and hides a smile on his shoulder. It’s always the small things that can give Kiyoomi the most warmth and it’s enough to dispel all his other thoughts, the ones that can always turn into a nightmare, at least for now. 

* * *

Tokyo // 18 

The first long drive Atsumu took when he got his license was with Osamu from Osaka to Tokyo. The second came so much soon after that when he sent a text to Sakusa and got lost for half an hour looking for Okuma. He got there at around 6:30 PM. 

“Got lost Miya?” Was the first thing Sakusa asked once he was found at the rotunda, just across the Okuma auditorium. He surveyed the car before getting in and wordlessly wiped down the car door and the window controls with sanitizing wipes. Atsumu expected it so he didn’t say anything and just pointed at the small trash bin he had in his car for tissues and other small trash. 

_‘His car is neater than I thought.’_ Sakusa thought to himself, quite impressed. 

“Ya know yer way around Omi-kun?” 

“So you did get lost.” The outside hitter supplemented for himself. “I’ve driven around with my mom’s car before. Did you want to go anywhere?” 

“Y’can drive?” Atsumu asked.

“Since I was 16. I’m not fond of it though.” Omi said as he looked out the window. “ You asked for a tour guide. Where did you want to go? ” 

Atsumu blushed immediately. He hadn’t thought as far ahead about where to go and what sights to see and the only thing that came to mind was Roppongi hills and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to give Sakusa that knowledge since it felt like it worked so unfairly against him. He played music and stared ahead as he thought of how to tell one of his greatest volleyball rivals that he fucking wanted to see Roppongi hills. He tried to remember a popular Tokyo shrine to save him some face but none came to mind. 

“Miya. Oi.”

He pretends to sing along to a song he doesn’t know and got all the lyrics wrong. 

“Did you want to see Tokyo tower?” Sakusa asked almost sarcastically. 

Atsumu started the car and softly said: “Roppongi hills.”

It dawned on Atsumu that he had, not until at that point, heard Omi laugh so wholeheartedly before. His laughter was quiet but it did sound like it came from his gut and it also seemed that it wasn’t a normal occurrence since he gasped for breath a couple of times before stopping to regulate completely. He felt inclined to stop the car but he didn't and he drove to the cue of his phone’s GPS as he processed the other’s laughter-- it started out as embarrassment but as he pondered on it, the feeling had shifted into some kind of awe at what he had seen. 

“Miya?” Sakusa’s voice distracted him. He didn’t realize that the man had already stopped laughing and was looking at him intently. 

“Huh? What?” 

“Did you really want to go to Roppongi hills?” Something like a snort. “Not even Tokyo skytree?”

He huffed and pouted but still kept his eyes on the road. “I’ve seen the skytree before.”

“You did?” 

“Why’dya seem so surprised?”

Sakusa looked out thoughtfully before he answered. “You didn’t post it on your Instagram.”

Atsumu remembered exactly why though. He had been on a date with a guy that Bokuto, in good spirits, introduced to him since he was fake-griping about being single. His name was Ryuji. They started chatting idly when Bokuto shared their contacts and they set up the date. He would have posted a picture of the skytree if the date wasn’t such a surreal experience for Atsumu. 

He thought the date would be alright since he never felt like he was doing things out of the way whenever they would talk to each other via chat but in the first 15 minutes he realized that he never felt bothered by his presence because he spent a lot of his idle time on his phone responding to messages. From his friends from Inarizaki to Samu, his mom, and Omi. Between the distance and all of them, he had a lot of screen time, and another person to add to the list didn’t hurt. Except the stark difference became apparent when they were out in Tokyo together. He sort of expected different reactions, different nuances to mundane topics and when those expectations weren’t met, his reactions were muted and somewhat fake. Ryuji couldn’t stand it so he cut the date short and left Atsumu in Shibuya.

"I didn’t realize it but you sound like you're still hung up on your ex or something." Ryuji had said then. The memory made Atsumu cringe. He didn't even have anyone he'd consider an ex. Okay, maybe he mentioned Sakusa a couple of times but that’s only because he’s one of the very few people he knew in Tokyo. 

“It was a date,” Atsumu told Omi, even if he really didn’t want to. Sakusa was still a confusing connection to him- he felt the need to tell him about the small things but dating just never really crossed their conversations so it was strange to bring it up. 

He couldn’t stand the silence from Sakusa after his strange confession so he followed it up with: 

“It didn’t go too well… though...”

“Oh...” 

_‘Say something Omi’_ Atsumu thought. 

**“PLEASE CHARGE YOUR DEVICE”** His car speakers blasted and it did it a couple of times until they got caught at a stoplight and his phone stopped working completely. 

“Ah shit!” Atsumu looked around and tried to look for his charger. “Can ya check fer a charger in the glove compartment Omi?”

Omi looked. Nothing there. “Not here.”

“Fuck. Osamu must’ve gotten it.” He reached out for his phone as some kind of automatic response in an attempt to dial his twin but he realized it immediately and just put his phone on the compartment on his car door. “Shit. Yeah. No power. Ugh. Stupidstupidstupid.”

The stoplight changed and Atsumu drove forward. “Alright Omi, since I don’t have a map then you’d have to get me to Roppongi hills.” 

“Yeah, okay, you missed the road I know, just take the next right and go around until we get back to Bentencho.” 

“Alright. I think I know where to turn. The crossroad then take the left instead of Waseda-dori ave, right?” 

Sakusa nodded then frowned. “You know your way around.”

Having been relieved of the topic of dating despite being caught in his shit, Atsumu casually grinned and hummed an affirmative. “I’m not bad with directions Omi-kun. ’m a lot more bummed that I won’t have music on my drive back to Osaka.” 

“If you’re so good with directions, why do you need me to get you to Roppongi? ” 

Atsumu gave Omi a cursory glance, just so he could check if the guy was asking out of irritation or was just curious, as usual. A grin found its way to his face when he found the latter to be the case. 

“It’s not so much fun tourin’ alone now is it Omi-kun?” He tapped on the steering wheel, a bit restless at the lack of any sound from the speaker. 

“So you’ll be able to get back to Osaka without your phone?” 

“Pretty much. It’ll be so boring though!” 

Sakusa looked out the window and thought of what to do then proceeded to reach out for his bag that Atsumu had him put on the backseat. Once on his lap, he rummaged through one of the pockets and took out an old black iPod, and waved it at Atsumu. 

“If you have an aux cord, you can borrow this.” 

Atsumu stared at the iPod nano Sakusa had on his hand. “Whoa! Ya still have one of those? Aren’t those phased out already?” 

“It still works.” he frowned. “Are you taking it or what?” 

“Yeah yeah, the cord is in the... compartment.” He pointed at the general area where the handbrake was. “ Can ya grab it fer me?” and Sakusa did as he was told. “Plug it in.” 

Sakusa hesitated as he scrolled through the songs he had saved. He didn’t think through the songs he had saved in his old device. He stilled for a while and cursed himself from 2 minutes ago. 

“What?”

“Nothing. Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” 

“Do you have embarrassing songs there?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Just play anythin’ ”

They drove past another intersection and in the darkness of the evening and the headlights of the other cars, there was a split second of light that framed Atsumu’s profile and for some odd reason, he felt some kind of surrender. He knew that observing Atsumu would be inevitable as long as he’s inside the man’s car. Kiyoomi felt the need to just let things be. He scrolled a couple of times and chose an Asian Kung-Fu Generation song. Blue train. 

“Nothing to be embarrassed about if ya have AKFG on yer thing Omi-Omi,” he tapped on the steering wheel as he sang along. “The 16 beat high-hat groove is really good on this one, don’t cha think?”

Sakusa blinked a few times. He’s never really felt the need to share his opinions about music even if he spent a lot of time curating his library and making sure that he had a playlist for most of his frequent activities. He didn’t really know what to say or where to start with his opinions on songs. They’ve known each other for a while and he considered himself to be at least more knowledgeable than Komori about anything Miya Atsumu. He found it a bit strange how surprised he felt over how much more facts about Atsumu he’s able to gather in such a short span of time. 

“Yeah...” He responded passively. The thought of the Skytree date came back to mind. “So you had a date at Skytree?”

Atsumu grimaced but answered the question anyway. “Yeah. But not really in the Skytree...We went to Skytree town so I got ta see the big hulking thing.”

“Huh… so you didn’t get to see from up top?”

Atsumu really didn’t know where he was getting at but the idea of talking about the date became less daunting as Sakusa probed. 

“D’you know how the wait time for the tickets is? Gotta book a month in advance.”

“And you haven’t known this person that long?” 

“I have but it’s not like-- Why’re ya askin’ anyway? Not like you have better luck in dating.”

“No. But you’d probably have better luck if you actually get into the tower.”

* * *

He hadn’t gotten much sleep but he found that being able to spend time with Atsumu was worth it. They met up after Atsumu snuck out of the MSBY afterparty. It’s not like Atsumu didn’t like spending time with his team but they won a Tokyo game and Kiyoomi finished the last stretch of his midterm exams so he thought it was something they can celebrate together. 

They spent the evening in an inn with Atsumu’s laptop just watching some movies. Earlier before the away games for MSBY they'd been talking and curating a shortlist of movies that the other hadn’t seen yet so they could watch them together. The conversation came up when they were texting and they started talking about films that their parents have made them see that somehow felt surreal. 

Surprisingly, Atsumu recommended a couple of old films- Mizoguchi’s “Ugetsu” and the 1954 “Godzilla” by Ishirō Honda. Kiyoomi suggested they watched Takita’s “Departures” and Seijun Suzuki’s “Tokyo drifter.” Since they already had a list, all they did was look for a good time to watch the movies together. They decided that they could do the movie marathon in one of Atsumu’s away games as long as Kiyoomi was done with his exams. 

It felt like they were at some midline at that point- they had a lot to discover about each other but they’re also most exposed to each other’s quirks. Close to a year of dating long distance wasn't something to scoff at. Kiyoomi considered it an amazing feat and sometimes he would feel daunted by their distance but Atsumu always made up for it by making him feel so... included in his life. At least, then, all Kiyoomi wished was for them to last longer than he initially thought-- That, even if things fail, he’d have a lot of memories to last him a long long time. 

_‘I sound like a kid.’_ He told himself but he remembered that while watching Ugetsu, which is a tragic drama, Atsumu kept on giggling about Lady Wakasa’s eyebrow makeup because “it looks like Moto-kun’s eyebrows,” 

_‘Okay. He’s worse sometimes.’_ But then he laughed too because the association had been easy to make. It was a tiny bit of silliness in the ocean of insight he was able to provide for the other films they watched. It was fascinating to see how easily tears flowed from Atsumu’s eyes and how softly he had whispered:

“If I give ya a stone-letter, will you keep it till yer old?” 

A sign of his certainty that they would be until the furthest end. 

The memory made Kiyoomi smile which in turn, made him compulsively hide his face in his hands. Which made him accidentally knock one of his books off his desk. As he was about to pick it up, he saw something slip out of it. 

Tickets to Tokyo Skytree and a handwritten note, undoubtedly Atsumu’s, that said:

“This is to test how much luckier I could possibly get now that I have you.”

* * *

Atsumu wiped sweat out of Kiyoomi’s forehead. The trip to Lake Biwa was a short one, only a couple of hours from their home but Kiyoomi had been feeling mild irritation from his missing leg since a few days back that had then blown into a flaring and feverish pain all over. 

“This happens Atsu, don’t worry. Go join them outside.” 

“Shhh.. none of that. I’m gettin’ Samu to bring home miso soup and fatty tuna from Futabaso,” he says faintly as he continues to run his fingers through his hair. Kiyoomi curls into himself and tries to snuggle into Atsumu’s thigh further. If there’s a feeling that’s like a toothache but on a limb then that’s how he would describe what he was feeling. Occasionally the pain would radiate onto his back and since it kept his body tense, his head sort of started hurting too. Atsumu knows how to deal with his headaches and migraines so he opts to have the curtains drawn and his voice quiet when he’d speak to him. 

“Samu found a place with good nikujaga, let’s get takeout?” 

Kiyoomi nods. Guilt floods him-- this was his idea and now he’s keeping Atsumu from actually enjoying himself. 

“Hey… Yer thinking.” Atsumu whispers. “It’s not gonna be fun without ya Om. Let’s just get ya rested. Hopefully, ya get better tomorrow.”

“Okay ‘tsu... ” 

He falls asleep and when he wakes up, Atsumu is still beside him. Munching on some rice crackers while idly watching something on his phone with the volume next to none. Looks like Extraction-- he recalls telling Atsumu about it during the last stretch of their away games and he’d been stuck at home without much company. 

“Ya awake Om?”

“Mhm… yeah” He grunts. 

“Feelin’ better?” Atsumu asks. Still with his voice dialed down to almost silence. “Water?”

“Yes… and yes please.” Kiyoomi rasps out. 

“Captain Meian arrived just a couple of hours ago. Bokuto and Akaashi won’t be here till tomorrow morning. They’re pickin’ up Shōyō-kun from Narita.” Atsumu says as he hands Kiyoomi a glass of water. "Slowly Om." he chirps and he almost snorts at the motherliness of it. 

“And the rest of the team?”

“Inunaki, Barnes, and Tomas met up with Samu a little bit after lunch. Don’t worry bout it Omi. Samu says we can go by the lake for lunch tomorrow. Barnes wants to go see Hikone castle cause he missed it last time. Bokuto and Akaashi’s goin’ with im. I know where ya want to go though.”

Kiyoomi’s eyes are still heavy but he’s able to raise an eyebrow in jest. 

“I don’t actually know but ‘m guessin’ Metasequoia Namiki?” 

He smiles. Atsumu wasn’t wrong. He did want to visit Namiki. “Yeah, then we can visit Hiyoshi and Tsuno Taisha before sundown at Shirahige?” He's been fascinated with shrines lately since he's been reading up on the gods who are in each shrine. 

“Samu and Suna wanted to go there by sundown too, maybe I can ask everyone else if we’ll all meet up there...”

Kiyoomi nods again and leans on Atsumu’s shoulder. He speaks weakly. 

“Sorry you have to take care of all the planning.”

A look of love crosses Atsumu’s features. _‘He always worries bout the dumbest of shits. Ya don’t have to thank me.’_ he thinks as he refuses to respond to Kiyoomi’s apology. Because what the fuck. 

“Yer cousin though. Guess what he’s up to.” He says to change the topic. 

Kiyoomi gives it some thought and makes a guess as Atsumu twirls a finger on his hair playfully. 

“Looking for haunted places? Trying to make it look like he's in a threesome with your brother and Suna?”

“Nope. That's good! But nope. He’s gripin’ bout bein 6th wheel so he’s gone off and has made plans to steal Inunaki to go shop at Mitsui and he’s calling it some quality time between them liberos.”

They laughed and Omi snuggled closer. Motoya could be so silly sometimes. He's already feeling much more coherent than he did earlier that day so he feels relieved. They had a week to stay there and he didn't want to waste it by being ill for the entire trip as much as it can't be helped. 

“Omi? I checked your leg while ya were asleep ya? Just to make sure that you can still put on your prosthesis tomorrow.”

Kiyoomi is reminded of the time when he started on the prosthesis and he didn’t give his leg a break until he started developing some skin irritation and infection from the compression shrinker. He winces at the thought but he figures the signs are similar to what he had a few hours ago. He shakes his head and hugs Atsumu. Yeah, he doesn't mind. 

“It should be fine Atsu. It’s probably just bad timing with the phantom pain and traveling.”

Atsumu hums. “Yer fine right? Yer good...” but Kiyoomi knows that he's freaking out. It's always endearing how Atsumu tries to keep calm for him. He thinks of the shrines they were to visit tomorrow and sets some internal reminder to ask for the same thing in all shrines.

_'Just give me more time. Please'_

“Yeah, I am.” Omi reassures his lover. “Love you.”

* * *

The drive around Roppongi was relatively silent until a familiar techno beat started playing on Atsumu’s car speakers. Atsumu knew that song-- Utada Hikaru’s “This is Love”

His voice sounded like he was trying too hard to stop his laughter. 

“Omi?”

“Shut up Miya.”

“You li--” 

“I’ll change it.” Sakusa interrupted as he made a move and grabbed the iPod to play a different song. 

With eyes still on the road and mirth in his eyes, he reached out to his left to stop Sakusa. 

“Wait! Don’t!” 

Exasperated, Omi raised his voice a bit. “Then stop laughing Miya!”

Atsumu didn’t stop laughing in fact but he started singing along instead. 

“予期せぬ愛に自由奪われたいね

Oh 一目で分かったの

冷たい言葉と暖かいキスあげるよ”

(I want to have my freedom stolen by unpredicted love

Oh, I knew with one look.

I'll give you cold words and a warm kiss)

“I like this song Omi-kun! I used to have a huge crush on Utada in junior high and she’s in all my running playlists.” Atsumu admitted fondly. “I wouldn’t have guessed with ya though.” 

Sakusa gawked as Atsumu continued singing as if the whole thing didn’t embarrass him. Atsumu just seemed to take new information in stride as if that’s how he’s supposed to know him and that… it felt like a puzzle piece that just naturally fit for him. 

_‘Does Atsumu feel that way too?’_

He set his iPod back onto the compartment on the dashboard and allowed himself to be enraptured by Atsumu’s simple charms. It's probably just a fleeting fancy that's followed him from his senior year. Besides, Atsumu wouldn’t know since he had to keep his eyes on the road.

* * *

One unassuming sunny day in Miyakojima-ku. Kiyoomi is 30 years old. He’s been dizzy all morning and for some odd reason, his coordination has also gone to hell. 

At 1 in the afternoon, as he takes the dishes to the sink, he falls forward, hits his head on the kitchen counter, and suffers a seizure. Atsumu goes blank but reacts mechanically in carrying Kiyoomi and taking him to Tsuji hospital where they treat him and give a diagnosis of a stroke. As soon as he’s stable, he’s transferred to Tominaga where Kiyoomi’s doctors are. 

Kiyoomi wakes up disoriented and his range of motion becomes limited. 

12 days later, he suffers a second stroke that renders him practically immobile and unable to speak. 

He turns 31 in the hospital with his friends surrounding him. They give him flowers and presents. Some have given bottles of pickled umeboshi saying that it should taste better once he’s able to eat them. He wants to say “thank you” but he can’t so he tearfully answers Atsumu with one blink when he asks him if he’s happy. 

_‘Yes. Atsumu. Everyone. I am very happy. Thank you.’_

Less than 20 days later Kiyoomi succumbs to it all and falls into death’s arms. 

* * *

_I would have never thought that it would hurt so much to not be able to say goodbye._

_I wish I could leave you in a better way but I have no choice. I’m so tired Atsumu and I know you are too. My vision is tunneling and I can barely hear you raise your voice-- are you asking me to stay? I wish I could. I really really really do. Did you win against the Adlers? I’m sorry, I couldn’t watch the game. Now that I think about it, I was so stupid. I didn’t want to burden you but in the end, that I wanted nothing more than to selfishly hold onto this life we’ve built together. It hurts the more I fight it. Will you ever forgive me Atsumu?_

_I want to cry. I want to fightstrugglegraspFUCK. Fuck. I just want to hold on and I’m trying but I don’t think my fingers can grip hard enough anymore._

**“It’s okay Kiyoomi. I love you.”**

_Is that? Am I hearing you correctly? Say it again, please. Please._

**“I love you.”**

_You’re telling me against your tears and I think I can feel your breath on my hand if I try hard enough. I want to say it back but I’m breathing less and less by the minute. Can you feel it when I try to move my fingers? I want you to feel that I love you so much Atsumu. You’ve given me more than I could ever want in my entire life. It hurts and I wish it didn’t hurt. I can hear you crying and shushing me as I struggle against the darkness that’s overcoming all my senses. I want to stay but I really can’t anymore. I want to fight it but it’s all in a loop now. I’ll miss you. I’ll miss everyone. I don’t want to go yet._

_There was a time when I kept on asking myself what makes a life full and I had no answers… but now? Even if I can’t say anything or do anything anymore. Please know that I love you and I’ve loved you more than anyone and anything… And this...holding my hand as I go. Maybe it’s okay for me to think that this life is full enough._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other ideas that weren't able to make it here:
> 
> The part where Omi lives. I totally forgot that the death thing happened in chapter one and that it's right there on the summary. I'm such an idiot. 
> 
> Komori and Inunaki buy EVERYONE matching shirts so everyone else gets to celebrate their singleness. 
> 
> More of the bystanders we love in the next and final chapter. 
> 
> **Also. I looked at someone I cared about and thought of the little things I'd remember if I ever lost them and it's not exactly projection but it may have driven me to make the small scenarios and write them as ordinary as I could. 
> 
> The stone-letter is from the movie "Departures" - it's a stone that's supposed to convey a message with its traits may it be color, texture etc. 
> 
> NIKUJAGA IS SO GOOD. I sort of can't wait to finish this chapter cause I've been dying to write the SunaOsa cookbook thing but maybe I can tie it into this AU. ahahah MAYBE. (but I have to stop k-wording Kiyoomi, really)


	10. Side A- Part V: Long Goodbyes II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said that the 10th would be the last chapter but I changed my mind. Not to prolong suffering but to create closure.
> 
> Thank you to those who've stuck around this far... I never expected anyone to read this since I know that lots of people avoid MCD. I know how messily written this is too with no beta and all so really. Thank you!

_ How do you start letting go of someone you’ve loved for so long?  _

* * *

Atsumu grips his twin’s hand with his. They’re inside his car and they’ve just pulled over his driveway in Miyakojima-ku. His and Omi’s home. 

“You don’t have to do this so soon Tsumu.” His twin says. “We can go back home to ma.”

Suna kept his quiet in the backseat and so did Komori. It’s been more than a month since he ran from Osaka to hide from everything. It had all been futile attempts but could anyone blame him for trying? 

He lets go of Osamu’s hand and slaps his palms together before pressing his thumbs in between his eyes. He’s been holding off being jittery and has been able to because he had been behind the wheel but the stillness of his car marked the beginning of the chaos manifesting in his mind. 

“Tsumu...”

“Yeah... No, I mean. I took more than a month off. I need ta get back into... things. Just things..” He pushes his door open and steps out. The keyring for his house keys dangling on his middle finger. He stops himself from expecting Kiyoomi to be there as soon as he opens the door. He wasn’t out on away games, he ran straight to Hyōgo to escape everything Osaka represented in his life. It’s not a pleasant feeling. 

He doesn’t notice the other passengers of his car stepping out to stand behind him as he moves towards his front door-- each step taking more willpower than it should but he plows on. He can’t keep on running. 

Their front door looms before him and he stills. His breathing and movements fall to a screeching halt but only for a few seconds. 

Osamu watches intently as his brother presses both palms on the front door, then his forehead. He can see Atsumu fighting the urge to cry as he sees the involuntary downturn of his lips before his jaw clenched as he breathes out a heavy exhale. 

“Kiyoomi,” he whispers at nothing in particular like some lost prayer before he pushes himself back, unlocks the door, and lets it open. 

It’s not like he was expecting something else. It was still neat besides little dust that has settled on everything. Everything they owned together. 

Atsumu realizes that he hasn’t been at home for more than the time he’s spent in Amagasaki. Things are neat but he hasn’t had a homemade meal in their home. Not when Kiyoomi was in the hospital. He basically just went home to sleep, shower, and do laundry when he had to. He cleaned when he was there because it was hard to let things pile up. When Kiyoomi was in the hospital he would always think about how he would hate to come home and see everything as a mess. He kept on denying that at the back of his head, he knew then that Kiyoomi probably wouldn’t make it home another time. 

“Hey… Atsumu...” It was Komori. 

He looks back at them and sees them by the door. Hesitant to enter. 

“Ah, sorry.” He steps further into the genkan. “Come in.”

He bites his lip. “Sorry, it’s a mess.”

Komori gives his shoulder a brief and comforting grip. “Don’t sweat it. We can help you tidy up.”

Atsumu nods and goes to the kitchen. In almost automatic motion, heats water for tea and checks the cupboards and the fridge for any snacks they kept in store for guests. Among their circle, they were known for being great hosts-- always prepared for surprise visitors and on several occasions, their house had been used as the venue for birthdays, afterparties, and get-togethers. It’s hard to imagine that the house he’s in is the same house he’s lived in for the past 7 years. Again with the sinking feeling in his chest and the heaviness on his shoulders. 

“D’ya guys want anything to drink? Tea? Coffee?” Suna and Komori don’t know how to respond but Osamu thinks that it’s some sense of normalcy that his twin is trying to get a hold of. 

“I’ll help ya.” He calls out from the dining area. “Suna wants tea. I’ll have coffee and--”

He looks at Komori. Almost glares. 

“Uh..um...” the libero hesitated. “Coffee would be nice?” 

“Sure, no problem,” Atsumu responds weakly “I’m not sure if it’s still okay but there are Hōjicha and Raspberry KitKats in the chiller and there’s some Senbei. I think they’re all still good.”

“Why don’t ya check on the cleaning stuff so we can get started after eatin’ hm? I brought some Onigiri an I think the other stuff we can have for later.” Osamu says and Atsumu just smiles a little and nods in agreement. 

He goes to their linen closet and retrieves all the things they need to clean. They have breakfast and they silently get started in wiping every surface and just tidying up very little clutter. Atsumu tells them that it would probably be better to pack Omi’s things now. That way he wouldn’t have to do it alone later. 

“Which room d’ya want me to take care of Tsumu?” Osamu asks. Atsumu gives it some thought and instructs his brother to take care of the bedroom and politely shuts himself into their study. He doesn’t need supervision for this. They pack away Omi’s clothes and he deals with the things he’s poured his time into for the past 2 years and that makes him afraid to look. When he sits in front of the computer and powers it on, he blankly stares at the papers to his left and actively ignores the two framed pictures on his right-- The big photo was from their last trip to Lake Biwa and the other one was a photo of them both in Iwate. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Kiyoomi was able to find a picture frame that had been given to him as a gift years ago and figured that since they took a lot of photos in their trips, it would be a good thing to use. The problem then was that it was so hard to decide between so many photos. 

He’s been looking at older pictures. Those they’ve taken prior to his early retirement and none of the photos settled well. It felt like looking at a lie. Like never acknowledging the many things that have changed. He was still in that confusing line of accepting something and at the same time not letting it define him. 

He took a deep breath and shrugged at his indecision. ‘ _ This is stupid. _ ’ He thought to himself and possibly mumbled it a bit. 

Atsumu tapped on the door of their study. A soft knock to not startle Kiyoomi. “What ya up to now hm?”

There’s a melancholy he had to swallow before answering Atsumu’s question. He may have noticed it but he did nothing to call Kiyoomi out but offered his help instead. 

He sat beside Omi and went through the photos they had and tried to decide which one would work best for the frames and the room in general. His pick for the smaller frame was a picture of them both at the Michinoku Ajisai garden in Iwate that they visited a few months ago during the rainy season to be able to see all the Hydrangeas in bloom. Motoya had been there on that trip and he was the one who took the picture. It was a one in a million shot with some golden rays of sunlight cutting through light fog and mist creating a warm and mellow effect on them both. He remembers Komori calling them both to look at the camera and since it was so sudden, Kiyoomi didn’t have the time to be conscious about his prosthesis. It was just him, them, the light, and his rare warm smile. 

“I don’t like that photo, Atsu.” 

“Why?”

Kiyoomi exhaled heavily and just said “Just because... ” then handed him a pile of older pictures. From before July of last year. 

“Pick from this pile.” Soft but clipped. 

“But I like this Omi.” Atsumu insisted. 

He dropped the photos and stared blankly with his gaze downward. “Why?” 

“Because it’s a great photo. I know yer looking at your leg and you get conscious about it but I’m not gonna pretend that things haven’t changed Omi.” His eyes swept through Kiyoomi’s entire form gently. “I won’t pretend that this isn’t what it’s like now. Some things are a bit more difficult than others but…Do ya ever realize how beautiful you are?”

No, not really. Kiyoomi doesn’t and he can’t quite believe it to be true but when he looked at Atsumu, all he saw was a look of patience. As if he knew that he couldn’t believe him and that it was okay. 

“It’s easy for you to say Atsu. But for me… I-- it’s hard sometimes.”

Atsumu rested his head on Kiyoomi’s shoulder. “I wish it was harder for me to say… but I’m me and you’re you and it’s alright if it’s just me who can see it. You’re everythin’ I could ever want.”

* * *

As he wiped sweat off Kiyoomi’s face and forehead, he did a quick assessment of his lover’s condition. He wasn’t shivering anymore so it seems like his fever has broken. 

His face was scrunched up the way it does when there’s something irritating him or when he sees a crowd. 

It’s such a ridiculously sour look that Atsumu couldn’t help but snicker. 

‘ _ I’d still tap that though .’  _ he thought. 

* * *

He looks at the bigger frame on the table. The photo in it was from their last group trip to Lake Biwa. It was in an Izakaya. Almost everyone they knew was there. Initially, the group had been just the MSBY team, Akaashi, Suna, Osamu and Komori but Atsumu wanted to make sure that they got to take it up a notch from the last time they had been there and was able to align calendars with some of their teammates in the National team; Yaku, Aran, Ushijima, Kōrai, Kageyama, Hakuba, Sokolov, Suzuki, Nitta, and Iwaizumi. Also some of their high school teammates-- Ginjima, Iizuna, and Riseki. 

People that Kiyoomi had been delighted to see after such a long time. 

Atsumu remembers asking one of the staff to take the photo for him and he called everyone’s attention to squeeze in. He made sure that Kiyoomi was in the middle then made sure that he was bracketed with his outstretched arms and palms pressed to the table as he leaned forward until his cheek pressed to Omi’s head. 

He half expected Kiyoomi to look annoyed but in a few shots, a three-step process to a genuine smile had been captured. The first photo was of him looking surprised, the second was a small smile as he leaned into one of Atsumu’s braced arms and the third was an uncharacteristic grin with his chin resting on the back of both hands intertwined and his elbows on the table. 

Those were good days. That time was probably the funniest walk he’s had with more than 20 tipsy volleyball players terrorizing the streets of Shiga from Sakaba Tokichi to Hikone view. He and Kiyoomi didn’t drink then but he recalls carrying Omi on his back as he sang along with everyone else. 

* * *

  
  


“Have we not given you enough Kiyoomi?” 

He heard Omi’s mother ask him after he told them that he’s been in love with Atsumu for the past 5 years. The perfect ice-breaker for the dinner that could have gone perfectly fine had Kiyoomi not been set off by his parents asking Atsumu questions only to respond about how he could have done things differently and how “couldn’t you have done what Kiyoomi did?” pertaining to doing University and competing in the Collegiate circuit as if it was the only right way to have gone about things. On top of that, he just competed for the Olympics and they were already asking him when he intended to retire. It triggered Kiyoomi’s blunt nature and he just blurted it out without warning. Ruining any intentions he had of breaking it to his parents softly at least. 

“No, mom. Why is that the question here? What’s wrong with Atsumu? You said I looked happier and you know what? He’s the reason for that. He’s supported me for so long... ” 

It was challenging to listen to Kiyoomi talk so much knowing that he wasn’t exactly the type to speak with many words; preferring to keep his words concise and to the point. His family, however, kept on circling around Kiyoomi and tried to get a rise out of Atsumu by telling him how unworthy he was of their son and that they would forgive Kiyoomi if he would just leave Atsumu.

Their arguments were relentless and brutal: 

“He’s a man!”

“He’s a volleyball player, how much do athletes earn?”

“Look at his background Kiyoomi. He’s not even from any of the affluent families we know. We can accept your lifestyle as long as you pick a better man.” 

“He talks like he has no manners! No pedigree!”

“You can’t even have children.” 

“Is this how you plan on repaying us? We raised you!”

All the things Kiyoomi thought had nothing to do with love at all. Nothing to do with how much Atsumu meant to him as a person. Kiyoomi tried to answer each one of their tirades with level-headedness but it was like talking to some void. It got exhausting immediately but not once did he allow Atsumu to defend himself. 

“You don’t have to answer any of that Atsu,” He said to Atsumu before turning to his parents. “You’ve given me enough. I don’t know what you want me to do to show how grateful I am that you’ve raised me but I know what I cannot give. I know this isn’t what you want for me but to give Atsumu up is not something I can do for you.” Apology intentionally omitted. He would never apologize for being in love with Atsumu. 

The adrenaline left Kiyoomi immediately and he slumped against Atsumu and he fought the panic attack that was threatening to make him hyperventilate. He’s not the type to take things sitting down or in this case, in silence but there was something about it that kept him in place. 

“I can’t do this,” Kiyoomi said and he got up abruptly. “Let’s go, Atsu.”

Atsumu was able to find some clarity and stood up to leave too but before he could take two steps away, Kiyoomi’s mom spoke.

“How much for you to leave my son alone?”

‘ _ Oh my fuckin God. Are these people for real?’ _ His mind blanked as he processed the sheer lack of tact. Kiyoomi was about to retaliate but he was able to speak first.    
  


“The fuck?”

“Watch your language.” One of them said. ‘ _ Where did these people buy the audacity? _ ’ 

“Hey. I really wanted to listen to what Omi wanted and not say anythin about your shit but yer gonna have to decide one day if y’all are a bunch of elitists, homophobes, shitty parents or just plain shitty people. How quick are y’all to take back the happiness you feel for him as soon as you figure out it doesn’t fit yer bill?”    
  


“We’re not together as a lifestyle.” He snarled with emphasis on ‘lifestyle’. 

“This is who Kiyoomi is and you have the gall to brush it off as something like yer taste for monochromatic home decor. We’ve given each other pieces of ourselves we can never get back. I love your son more than anything in the world.” Atsumu proclaimed, and in a total 360 turn from declaring his adoration to channeling every miasmic feeling the strangers have called upon him that night, he spat out: 

“Y’aren’t the bigots who can destroy that. None of yer kind can.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


There was a sob stuck on the crevices of his chest from the moment he arrived in the hospital and saw a weak and struggling Sakusa Kiyoomi. The feeling doesn’t move from where it is until a few days later in his bedroom in Hyōgo. While in Tominaga though, he felt the inevitable crash from their victory for the first game of the season against the Adlers. 

He said he’d win it from Kiyoomi and he did. He did. But why did his world feel like it was about to implode on itself? 

Kiyoomi’s breathing was all wrong. It was too weak and Atsumu was so confused. Like he was watching everything unfold from far away with his ears ringing and panic holding his heart in a tight grip as he held Kiyoomi’s hands with his own. His stare fixated on where their hands connected. ‘ _ Why are his hands so cold? _ ’

“Omi… Omi… Kiyoomi. Please...”  _ ‘Please what?’  _ He didn’t know and he didn’t know why no one else was panicking as he was. ‘ _ Why is it so quiet?’  _

A soft guttural groan. ‘ _ What? _ ’ 

Atsumu whipped his head sharply to look at Kiyoomi- his lips were parted and he was trying to speak. Fuck. He was trying to speak and he looked like it was taking all of him to just breathe out in some pursuit to make a sound. The machines in the background all of a sudden felt like they were getting louder. The heart monitor started beeping faster but all Atsumu saw was Kiyoomi attempting to get a message across. Everything else felt like it had been underwater. 

He stood up still with Kiyoomi’s hand on his and stared at the nurse who looked miserable and conflicted but had just been standing on the side. 

“Miya-san… ” The nurse attendant started, “Sakusa-san is--” He didn’t get the chance to finish what he said when Atsumu looked at him pleadingly and asked with his voice cracking in so many painful ways:

“Why aren’t you doin anything?”

“We're already pumping in everything we need to keep him alive… Also, Sakusa-san signed a DNR.” He said wearily like he too wanted to do more. 

Atsumu’s eyes went back to Kiyoomi-- astounded that he didn’t know about the DNR and like he couldn’t quite believe it yet.

“Kiyoomi please. I need you… I can’t...”

He could see how much Kiyoomi was pouring into his pathetic wheezing breaths and he stared as his struggling started to weaken. Shit, he looked like he was in pain but he wasn’t stopping. He was trying to fight. Atsumu was stunned by the very light and barely-there press of Kiyoomi’s fingers on his hand and the tears gathering on his lashes. The wretched persistence to communicate. His groans had turned into whimpers like it physically pained him to just breathe. He wanted to ask Kiyoomi to stay but how could he if he could already see the man trying so hard and failing so painfully? 

‘ _ Enough Kiyoomi _ .’ 

“It’s okay Kiyoomi. I love you.” Atsumu said. Trying so hard to not choke. 

‘ _ Enough. _ ’

“I love you.” He repeated more than once against Omi’s freezing hands. Kiyoomi tried again but he shushed him gently. All he could do was kiss his lover’s fingers and tell him how much he is loved and that he knows. 

Everything inside Atsumu wanted to reach out and beg Kiyoomi to fight some more but he didn’t. With every weakened breath that Kiyoomi took and as the light faded in Omi’s eyes, he felt his heart shatter and the only thing he could do was tell Omi that he loves him so much. 

* * *

“Everyone seems to think that love is greater the bigger the hurdles taken to pursue it.” Komori says as he folds his cousin’s Itachiyama jersey and puts it on top of the second box that’s almost full. “But that really isn’t the case.”

“What’re ya sayin’?” Osamu asks. Finding it a bit strange for Motoya to start discourse about meanings and abstract things. 

Komori sighs and looks around the room with some forlorn expression. “Y’know I grew up with Kiyo.” he starts. 

“There are a lot of things I knew about him. He was very particular and slightly withdrawn… Like I don’t have to say, right?” 

The other two people in the room, Suna and Osamu, take a second to look at each other before nodding. Komori, as jolly and laid back as he seemed, wasn’t the type to linger on sentimentality. Again, meanings and abstract thoughts weren’t something easily associated with him given that he and Kiyoomi were their go-to for harsh advice when they felt like they needed it. 

“I think the only time I stopped worrying about Kiyo was when he and Atsumu told me they were dating.” He laughs. “They were together for 4 years at that point and I almost almost felt hurt that Kiyo wouldn’t tell me something so important but when I looked at them, they looked like they were sorry for not saying anything for so long. Plus I get it, with Kiyo’s parents and all. But you know… ugh. I don’t know what my point is. Fuck.” 

Suna moves to Komori’s side and rubs circles on his back. “You know I noticed that Kiyo liked Atsumu really early? Like senior year early. Training camp with Kamomedai early.”

“Oh?” Suna exclaims. Osamu snickers. 

“Round the same time I was teasing Tsumu bout im. Right? Rin? ”

“Yah. He wasn’t budging tho?”

Osamu laughs at a recollection. “Tsumu would say ‘nice kill!’ even if he was playin’ AGAINST the guy. It was so weird and he would just brush me off and say ‘Well, it was good. So?’ an that was it until years later he just gets Kiyoomi seated in one of the booths and trespassed to make ume onigiri. AND Kiyoomi ate it!”

Komori laughs with them and looks around again. Everything Kiyoomi had in his parent’s house in Den en Chōfu had been impersonal and kept solely for function. Here he can see the warmth and the small things that his cousin wanted to treasure. “You see. It would be rather rude to think that it was the challenges that made them so great together. When in fact, they fell into each other's lives so naturally. At some point, I was even envious. I think it's just amazing how they were so at peace with each other. The hard things came after but they were just so in love already that it would have been impossible to not surpass everything on their way.”

Suna and Osamu couldn’t help but agree. They’re also reminded of how easily Kiyoomi fit into their lives the moment Atsumu re-introduced the man in the light of their relationship. Osamu appreciated how earnestly Kiyoomi wanted to learn how to cook for Atsumu and how he voluntarily started fixing doctor’s appointments for the entire family and Suna the moment he realized the disorganization of everyone’s calendars. Suna also found comfort in having someone else bear with the twins when they were being… Well… themselves. He was also surprised at how big-hearted Kiyoomi really was. He wasn’t an in-law he had to impress but Omi always made sure that he was involved in the plans he and Atsumu had for the Miya family. 

“Well… you guys take care of this.” Osamu gets up and stretches. “I’ll make lunch. Gin said he’d be here around 1pm.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Is this the first time you’re making Osechi, Kiyoomi-kun?” Anzu, Atsumu and Osamu’s mom, asked him. 

“Ah… Yes.” Kiyoomi said. He was slightly overwhelmed by the number of things that needed to be done. He’s never had Osechi before. He’s heard of it and he’s seen pictures but it’s not something that all families did. “I’ve never had it before too.” 

“What?” Anzu stopped her chopping and stared at Kiyoomi. Osamu stared too. Atsumu was pounding mochi outside with Haruki, so no one was there to speak for him which was quite frightening since the moment was contextually about food and he had to answer the two people who knew and loved food so much. Also, they were his in-laws. Sort of and Suna was running late-- he had no other non-Miya ally.

“You’ve never… had Osechi before? Not even once?”

He shook his head and looked down at the onions he had been slicing. “No, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t apologize to me, dear. I feel sorry you’ve never had it before but I’m glad Tsumu brought you this year!” Anzu said and looked at his progress in cutting onions. “Those don’t make ya teary-eyed?”

Omi continued slicing. “Onions don’t make me cry… I found out in high school when we had cooking classes.”

“Oh? You know what my ma used to say? If ya can chop onions without cryin’ then that means your in-laws will love you.” Anzu grinned as she walked away from Kiyoomi to check on the Tataki gobo she had simmering on a pot. Kiyoomi kept his gaze on the onions but a blush colored his cheeks and his neck. Atsumu’s parents were very kind to him. They were such earnest people that it was hard for him to not be flustered around them. 

“Sakusa, really? Never?” Osamu asked, almost whispering as it took him a while to believe what Kiyoomi said. 

“Yes Osamu-san. Never.”

“What did y’all have for New Year’s then?” 

Kiyoomi gave it some thought. “It depends on what mom wants but there’s usually a party with their business associates so there’s always lots of food and maybe...” he tried to think of something that made the meals a bit more particular. “They always got sweets at Ikkoan… I guess.” 

Osamu hummed and set down the last of the shrimp he had been cleaning and leveled his stare with Kiyoomi’s. “So you know how the Warabimochi of Ikkoan tastes like huh.”

He nodded and watched as Osamu didn’t ask anything else but told him to check on Atsumu and his dad after chopping onions which he was able to finish off in a few minutes. 

When he stepped out of the house to join Atsumu and Haruki in the yard, he’s instantly met by a beaming Atsumu. “Why’re ya here Omi? Everythin’ okay?”

“Osamu kicked me out.”

“He what?!?” Atsumu bristled and let go of the big hammer he had on hand and stormed inside. 

Haruki looked at Omi as he shrugged and picked up the wooden hammer. “Osamu-san wasn’t mean about it but okay. Sorry about that Haruki-san.”

“Don’t bother with the honorifics Kiyoomi. Yer family to Atsumu so that means you are to us as well, alright?” the elder Miya said and continued to teach Omi the how-tos of Mochitsuki. 

“Usually the Osechi and Ozoni are eaten during new years day but the Miya clan has had one western ancestor a handful of generations ago who started the tradition of celebrating New year’s eve well enough to be hungover till the third of January so we get everythin’ done on the 31st. I think it’s a good thing, don’t you?”

He wasn’t sure if being hungover for more than a few hours could be, in any way, alright but he nodded anyway and listened as his lover’s dad told him more stories about other New Year’s celebrations they’ve had in the past. Suna arrived and joined them shortly. 

In the middle of their conversation, Atsumu called out to them to go inside. Once in, he showed them to a spread of desserts that Kiyoomi has only seen in Wagashi shops in Tokyo. In front of him was a spread of Higashi, Namagashi, Daifuku, Manju, and Warabimochi. 

Osamu stepped out of the kitchen with a tray of teacups. “I know it probably ain’t as good as Ikkoan but ya better tell me I’m cutting it close.”

Apparently, while thinking up the new menu for Onigiri Miya, Osamu had a dessert phase and went through making some of the desserts that are often found in Wagashi shops. All his creations were too pretty that everyone started taking pictures of them. Kiyoomi took a few shots and posted them on his Instagram. Suna took a video that ended with him kissing Osamu’s cheek. 

They all had a taste of each dish that was offered to them. Kiyoomi particularly liked the Warabimochi and the plum-flavored Namagashi that Osamu put on his plate. 

“This is a bit of a more familiar way of celebrating right?” He had said and Kiyoomi agreed. Wagashi store products were his only childhood memory of New Year’s so it felt good to have someone consider his way of things. Atsumu watched him and his twin interact and smiled as he put half of his plum-flavored Namagashi on his plate.

Osechi was a lot of preparation and that’s not counting the copious amounts of Ozoni that Anzu intended to have last for 2 days. Also so they could share with their neighbors she said. So after tea and snacks, they all got back to work with Anzu and Osamu giving directions for everyone to have something to do. They had a table with 6 jūbako and more than 10 dishes to fill it. Everyone followed Osamu’s lead as they arranged the simmered shrimp, the burdock root with sesame sauce, herring roe, salmon-kombu roll, pickled lotus root, kamaboko, and sweetened rolled omelet. They all shared a good laugh at how horribly Suna shaped the Kuri-Kinton and how Atsumu kept on sneaking bites of Tazukuri, pickled chrysanthemum roots, and Namasu for Omi. 

In the end, they had 6 filled jūbako and some to spare in case anyone wanted to snack on more after dinner while waiting for the clock to strike midnight. 

Since they were all couples. They agreed earlier to give the jūbako they made to their significant others. On the dining table, they stared at the boxes made for them. Kiyoomi noticed on his box that Atsumu deliberately added more Namasu and pickled Lotus roots. He also noticed that the Kuri-Kinton was shaped to be a volleyball with the markings and all. He even wrote the ‘mik’ for Mikasa. It was all very Atsumu of him to have done so and Kiyoomi thought of how adorable his boyfriend was and how loved he felt in their home. 

That day, Kiyoomi found out that Haruki definitely didn’t lie when he said that they celebrated enough to last them till the 3rd. 

* * *

  
  


Atsumu stares at Kiyoomi’s computer and decides to open their Spotify and play some songs off the shared playlist he had with Omi. He always liked filling the space up with music as he cleaned or did work. 

_ ‘I saw you in a dream, you had stayed the same. You were beckoning me, said that I had changed, tried to keep my eyes closed, I want you so bad. Then I awoke and it was so sad.’ _

He remembers the time when Kiyoomi’s taste in music expanded from slightly more obscure Japanese artists to some Spanish music and some western folk and indie. Omi would take time to translate the lyrics for him whenever he found himself enraptured by tunes and melodies. Atsumu loved the times when he would catch a glimpse of Kiyoomi with his eyes closed as he swayed to whatever song was playing. How Kiyoomi would allow him to sneak from behind and hold him as they both swayed to each other's rhythm. 

There was something off about cleaning the study. For one, it was too neat. There was barely anything out of place. All files were organized as if it had been prepared to just be handed out to whoever needed them. On the table, there were 3 stacks-- one for Waseda (already addressed to each student and each professor), one for JVA and another pile that’s directly for Tetsurō Kuroo. All he has to do is either put the papers on envelopes or boxes depending on the volume and bring them with him to his next visit to Tokyo or have them shipped. 

Another thing was the box underneath the table that he always assumed was just where Kiyoomi threw his empty pens and scrapped notes that had confidential information. He takes a look and it has random things in it; paperweights, penholders, used-up pens, a few small notebooks…and a small suspicious-looking velvet box. 

It doesn’t take a second for him to process everything before he opens the box and sees a golden ring. There’s a piece of paper dated a year and a half ago. 

Atsumu sinks to the floor and cries silently holding the ring against his heart until he passes out from exhaustion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Osechi is awesome! Lots of preparation though :) 
> 
> Jūbako is the box where they traditionally put the dishes in for Osechi-ryori. 
> 
> Kamaboko- fishcakes 
> 
> Tazukuri - Baby anchovies soaked in some soy sauce glaze 
> 
> Namasu - Pickled shredded carrots and radish 
> 
> Tataki Gobo - Cooked burdock roots 
> 
> Kuri-Kinton - candied chestnuts 
> 
> Namagashi - a type of wagashi (Japanese sweets) that often have fruit jellies or bean paste so it's more on the moist side compared to;
> 
> Higashi - a type of wagashi that's more sugar-based and is more on the dry side. 
> 
> Ozoni - (a personal fave!) New year mochi soup! It's so good! 
> 
> *** Song reference on the last stretch is "I saw you in a Dream" - The Japanese House


	11. Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking around :)

Osamu found his twin on the floor in his study. Like some kind of statue frozen in place. Only deemed alive by the steadiness of his soft breaths and his whimpering-- probably from the dreams. 

He went into the study room to call Atsumu for lunch but found him that way. Panic struck him for a second until he took a closer look and realized that he had cried himself to sleep. He knew that the way Atsumu was treating himself was, in no way, sustainable but no one could tell Atsumu otherwise. 

For what it was worth, his twin was dealing with it maturely. Apart from the fact that he barely slept at night, he had a more or less healthy way of grieving. Atsumu remained responsive and he didn’t look like he’d go into a land none of them could reach. Honestly, Osamu expected worse. 

Kiyoomi was a loss that their entire family felt as he knew it would be since he had seen how anchored his brother’s happiness was on him. They too had moments of their own given that before his retirement, he had been teammates with his twin and in the past two years they had spent countless hours together whenever Atsumu had an away game or if he just wanted to hang out in their house in Osaka when he had to deal with the newer Onigiri Miya branch. Also, he appreciated the simplicity of being around Omi-- most people thought of him as complicated but his rules were simple. Just be clean, don’t make a mess, and don’t casually touch him. Once Osamu got past the fastidiousness Kiyoomi had towards his own rules and his bluntness, everything became easy. They’d hang out, plan their trips and send each other links to the gifts their partners would like. Kiyoomi was a sensible gift-giver. 

“Hey, what’s taking you so long Samu, lunch will--oh. Is he okay?” Suna said as he took a peek from the door. “Do you need anything?”

“He’s asleep. No fever. Maybe just one of the thicker blankets in their room.”

Suna nodded, left him for a few then came back with the thick blankets and a pillow. They carefully maneuvered 80 kilograms of athlete to be tucked as comfortably as anyone could on a floor with some blankets and a pillow.

Rintarou noticed the velvet box beside Atsumu first. 

“Samu. Look.” He pointed at it and heard Osamu’s sharp inhale the moment he saw it. 

“Ah. Shit.”

* * *

The house in Miyakojima-ku was quiet as it normally would be if it’s just Kiyoomi at home but he’s reminded that the Raijins had a game in Osaka and it would have been strange if Komori didn’t come by to visit.

Osamu stopped at the genkan and a sense of apprehension washed over him. He and Atsumu had been talking about Kiyoomi’s health and his twin had entrusted him to check on his boyfriend every now and then. 

‘ _ Shit, I sent him a message yesterday and he replied but that was it. I didn’t even tell him I was on the way.  _ ’

“Kiyoomi-kun?” he said but there was no response. 

He walked deeper into the house and tried to listen to anything that could clue him into where Kiyoomi could be. 

“Now what am I supposed to do?” A voice of a woman and Osamu heard it from the bedroom. As he stepped closer, he could hear some background music and a sense of relief hit him. 

“AH! Kiyo! No!!!” 

Osamu’s heart sped up again and he rushed to the bedroom-- 

“The knife on her mouth made my jaw hurt.” It was Komori. He was on the floor while Kiyoomi was on the bed, surveying his laptop’s screen. 

“Yeah, but you don’t need to shut my laptop so hard. If my screen gets cracked I’ll have you pay for repairs.” Omi said sourly. 

“What?” 

“Osamu?” Kiyoomi immediately shifted his glance towards the clock on the bedside then covered his mouth with his fingers and stared at Osamu wide-eyed. “Oh no… I forgot you were coming over. I didn’t even put the miso soup on.” 

Relief hit Osamu again and he leaned into the doorway. “I cook fer a livin’. ‘M sure we can whip something up in a few. It was so quiet, I thought.. ” He sighed. “Ya both should keep yer shenanigans in the living room so the house won’t be so quiet.” 

“You sound like my dad when I went over to visit my parents after moving out,” Komori said as he walked past him on the door. 

“Ah shut up Motoya!”

“It’s not my fault you get empty nest syndrome!”

Osamu sighed again. Komori had been making fun of what he and Suna called “parental tendencies.” Yeah, so he had the tendencies to watch over his friends. They just don’t get that it’s something anyone can develop when one has an Atsumu Miya as a twin. 

“Motoya-kun! Can ya check if they have some kinugoshi and soak the kombu? I’ll work on lunch soon.” He yelled out then leveled his stare on Kiyoomi. “You rarely stay in bed till past noon. Are you alright?” 

Kiyoomi smiled. At this point, he already knew better than to lie. “My leg was just aching and I felt a bit lethargic. When Toya came over he wanted to watch movies so we put on a few. I just lost track of time. Sorry to have worried you.”

“What were you watchin’ anyway?”

“In the realm of the senses… It’s an old film we found in a horror recommendation list but it’s definitely a strange kind of horror.” 

Osamu raised an eyebrow. “And it’s about?”

“Sada Abe. A former prostitute who ended up working in a hotel and her affair with the married hotel owner. They do it a lot and before Toya freaked out, she looked like she was about to kill her lover.” 

“That doesn’t sound too scary. What makes it horror?”

Kiyoomi contemplated for a little while. “Maybe watching too many sex scenes with your cousin makes it horror. There’s so much of it, you’d want to tell them to give it a break.”

Osamu snorted out laughter but straightened up almost immediately when he remembered that he was there to make sure that Kiyoomi was feeling alright. 

“How long have you felt like shit before today?” Osamu asked. “Does Atsumu know?”

“I told him. It’s just been a day but it’s much better now.” 

He doubted Kiyoomi for a second but saw no sickly pallor or any visible discomfort so he let it go. He’d long ago been able to let go of the tendencies to help Kiyoomi out with every little thing but watching him move around the bed and reach out for his prosthesis made his fingers twitch and Kiyoomi somehow always caught on it. 

“Go ahead, Osamu. I’ll be fine.” He said without keeping eye contact. Osamu let it go again and headed to the kitchen. Once he got there, he saw Komori staring at the pot of soaked kombu intensely. 

“Komori?”

“Miya... Kiyo signed a--.” Komori said with a frown and a crack to his voice before he hides it all again the moment he heard the thudding of Kiyoomi’s footsteps-- the sound of his gait unique because of the prosthesis and his strange lack of mindfulness that day. He almost stumbled walking into the kitchen. 

“Hey Kiyo, you shouldn’t walk around if you’re not up to it. You’ll hurt yourself.” 

Kiyoomi good-naturedly swatted Komori’s hand when his cousin tried to reach out and help him then mumbled a short and clipped “I can manage.”

_ ‘Bullshit’  _ Osamu thought. Omi’s been off since he arrived but he didn’t say anything. He was still processing what Komori tried to say earlier. 

“Moto-kun, you were saying something about Kiyoomi signing something?” 

Motoya froze and a strained smile plastered itself on Omi’s face. 

“Nothing. Just a deal with Waseda”

Osamu definitely thought something was up and there was something they weren’t saying. Motoya apparently tried but his efforts had been shut down by Kiyoomi and his icy glare followed by something that looked closer to being apologetic. None of it had been mentioned again that day. 

Turns out it had been Kiyoomi’s DNR- the last lie he held onto for Atsumu. 

* * *

It’s been almost half a year since Kiyoomi’s death and Atsumu has been doing better but, in many ways, he just seems stuck. 

He still plays for the Jackals as their starting setter but apart from that, everything else just feels underwater. After tidying up their house in Miyakojima-ku, visitors came frequently only to check on him and he’s kept half the mind to reel in his temper because he knows that his friends and family just care for him and maybe it’s what he needs. Maybe. Apart from getting Kiyoomi back, there was nothing else he knew of that could make things...good.

He always wonders if the weight on his chest and the blankness in each morning is how he will spend the rest of his life. 

He’s tried not thinking about Kiyoomi. He stops his thoughts when he’s about to think that he misses the man but he allows people around him to talk about Omi. Like when Shoyo would say that he misses the ramen place they go to or when Bokuto says that Akaashi doesn’t have a lot of people he trusts to not accidentally spoil the plot of the manga he’s working on knowing that Kiyoomi was one of the few people Akaashi trusted to not say anything about his work. 

Or maybe he can easily pick up anything that he can associate with Kiyoomi. He wouldn't go as far as to think that no one else missed him but everyone seems to get it together when for him, it’s like the void that Omi’s loss created in him just keeps on expanding. 

The ring he found in their study sits comfortably on his chest; held by a red woven string around his neck since he gets allergic reactions to metals. 

He…

He didn’t know where to find certainty in his life now that Kiyoomi is gone. Everyone else seems to be fine celebrating Kiyoomi’s life-- sharing good stories and pleasant memories. He likes hearing the good things too but when he’s alone with nothing but his thoughts is when loneliness seems to know where to pierce the hardest. It’s in the smallest things that Atsumu feels Kiyoomi’s absence the most. 

Whenever he feels this way he’d call Osamu and his twin was always quick to respond. Always comforting but today is different. Maybe something with how the afternoon light hit the crevices of their home. Bathing the space in a gentle orange glow and a warmth that lulls Atsumu ever so lightly into a deep sleep on their couch. 

* * *

“Atsu.” He opens his eyes to a voice he has not heard in a long time. “Atsumu. We don’t have much time.” 

“Kiyoomi?” He says. Almost whispers like a prayer before he shoots up with his eyes open just looks. Could it be that the past 2, 3 years have been nothing but some elaborate dream? 

Omi is in front of him. Healthy and all limbs intact. Maybe he was the one who got into an accident on the way back from Brazil. 

“Don’t think Atsumu… You’re here with me now.” The ghost says. “Just now is fine.”

And he’s somehow absorbed and swayed by Kiyoomi’s reasoning as he had always been and probably always will. 

“Come, Atsumu.” He says again and Atsumu is beckoned with no resistance but no words come out either. He just follows Kiyoomi’s guiding hand and allows himself to be taken to a room-- it’s the room in Niseko where they spent a week in the winter before their 7th anniversary with the glass windows of the Zaborin Ryōkan overlooking the snow in the terrain. The warm lights inside in contrast to all the cold outside. They made love then. Enough to last Atsumu many nights of dreams. 

He was told that the best thing about being in a stable relationship is the availability of sex without having to bother with the chase and he never really paid attention to what anyone else had to say about their relationship but he remembers the week they spent in Hokkaido. The first night had been spent resting from traveling, the second day was spent leisurely walking through the snow and some tourist places. The second night he spent taking Kiyoomi apart and realizing that people who told him that the convenience of fucking being the best part of a relationship are probably people who have not felt love to the frightening degree he’s felt for Kiyoomi. 

Atsumu remembers relishing every moment, every inch Kiyoomi had made available for him and only for him. He remembers how Kiyoomi cried with the intensity of it all. How he shook as he held his most beloved close to himself. The heat surrounding them and when Kiyoomi had his name on every exhale. 

In this dream, Atsumu feels a warm and familiar kiss.

“Kiyoomi.” He breathes out and they go through the motions. Atsumu undresses Kiyoomi so slowly and reverently. Kiyoomi is pliant but reassuring with his touch. It doesn’t feel like a dream at all. Atsumu wants to ask but he doesn’t want the spell to be broken. He misses Kiyoomi so much. He’s just as perfect as he remembers him to be. Their movements are as natural as 12 years of familiarity offers but it does nothing but undo and shatter Atsumu. 

“What is this?” He gasps out as he’s overwhelmed by the pleasure of being inside and having Kiyoomi wrapped around him. “What do you want, Omi? Please.. Tell me, I’ll give you everything. I’ll do anything.”

Atsumu chases the pleasure he’s known so intimately through time and--

“Let me go.” 

He doesn’t stop because no, he can’t just let go. He feels Kiyoomi’s nails rake on his back as desire consumes them and undulates. Atsumu doesn’t want this to end. He doesn’t want to let go and he doesn’t know how he could ever. 

They reach completion, they break and they re-assemble in each other’s arms. Still unwilling to loosen their grip, Atsumu holds Kiyoomi closer and tighter with the strength of the anguish he’s had no words for since that day in spring. 

“No Omi… Please, anything but that. Please, please. I can’t.” 

Kiyoomi doesn’t force it and he allows Atsumu to keep him in his embrace as he weeps. 

“Atsu?” That voice. Oh how Atsumu missed it so much in the small conversations they’d have in the dead of night or the break of dawn. “I love you.”

“Omi... Please...” 

‘ _ Don’t go. Stop breaking my heart. Please.Kiyoomi. _ ’ 

“I’ve been happy with you.” Atsumu hears the other’s voice behind all the light refracted by his tears. “I’ve always wanted you and I’ve loved you with all my heart, Atsumu. You wanted to know, right?”

Atsumu nods and leans more into Kiyoomi’s soothing hand on his hair. 

“Now you know. Don’t forget, okay?” 

Another nod. 

“I’ve loved you. All my life.”

Atsumu wants to say it back but all he can do is sob and try to fit himself closer and closer. 

“You have to go, Atsumu.” 

‘ _ No. No. No. _ ’ He pleads in his head but there is nothing he could do as he feels wakefulness steal him away from this dream. 

“I love you.”

* * *

The words echo until he wakes and opens his eyes to the amber glow of the afternoon. He takes a look at his phone and only 15 minutes have passed since he closed his eyes. 

There’s no miracle to it. Atsumu can still feel the heartache, the loss, and the grief but there’s a reassurance that loving and having loved Kiyoomi wasn’t all some helpless futility; that at the end of it all, the person he’s adored for most of his life had lived a good and fulfilled life. 

He thinks that maybe it’s his head trying to make sense of it all but there’s a part of him that holds onto the possibility of Kiyoomi reaching out one more time to give him a push, a nudge to go on being alive. To give him that piece of certainty he’s lost in mourning. 

Maybe he’ll be okay. 


End file.
